“You know I’m good for it.” I held the thick envelope up, wagging it in his face. He attempted to reach for it, and I pulled back. “Not too fucking fast, Carmelo. Get Ms. Glossy on my mothafuckin’ stage before you get this back-end.” I smirked at him.
He chuckled while shaking his head. “You always been cold as fuck and about your business.”
“Some shit never change.”
My massive ring managed to catch his attention, and he reached out and grabbed my hand before holding it up to inspect the diamond Ahk blessed me with. The rock was so damn big that it weighed my finger down at times. “Damn. You really ain’t wait for a nigga?”
I took my hand out of his hold, laughing him off. “Never been the type of bitch who waited. You should know that.”
“Who’s the lucky cat?” His eyes peered down at me. I could tell by his tone, he wanted to try his hand at belittling my husband to stroke his own ego, and that shit wasn’t happening on my watch.
I folded my arms across my chest and eyed him up and down. “He goes by Ahk. I don’t expect you to know him. He don’t do industry niggas.”
He caught my dig, and his square jaw tightened a bit. I mean, what was he expecting? The day I let a nigga play in my face about my husband might as well be my last day breathing.
“Call time is in ten minutes. I just wanted to welcome you back to my city and let you know I’ll have your paper once she finishes her set.”
He nodded before reaching for another hug. For the sake of getting his artist out on that stage, I granted him a polite side hug. “Good doing business with you, Jazzy.”
“Likewise, Carmelo.”
After chopping it up with him, I went ahead and checked on my dancers. In a club, especially a gentlemen’s club, the dancers were the pillar to the empire. If they weren’t happy, money wasn’t going to be made, so I kept them bitches happy. Ahk always joked that I was a pimp, and honestly, at times, it felt like I was. There was no telling what extra shit my dancers would come to me for help with. I always looked out for them. As long as they weren’t selling pussy in my club, they were good in my book.
“How we looking in here?” I popped my head into the dressing room.
“Good!” they replied in unison as they did every Saturday night.
They were all actively getting dressed to hit the floor or sorting through trash bags full of dollar bills so they could have their shit together for tip out.
“Sounds like we’re gonna have a good night tonight, ladies.” I smiled as I furthered into the dressing room. “Glossy hits the stage in less than ten minutes. I need everybody on the floor and in a section.”
“We got you, Boss Lady,” Passion, one of my veteran dancers assured me.
Next to her was another dancer who went by Icey. I noticed she had her head down at her vanity. She was dressed in her floss, and her thirty-inch bust down was laid flawlessly. My Louis Vuitton So Kates clicked straight to her, and I tapped her on the shoulder. She jolted out of her slumber, and her eyes met with mine through the mirror.
“The fuck?” My brows bumped together at the black bruise that surrounded her left eye. It was clear that she was in the process of blending her make up to cover up the bruise but ended up dozing off in the process.
“Shit, my bad. I’m almost done getting ready,” she apologized while quickly grabbing her beauty blender to continue covering up the bruise with makeup.
I reached down and grabbed the beauty blender out of her hands. “Babe, I need you on the floor in like five minutes. You’re gonna need more than that to cover this shit up.” Tucking my finger underneath her chin, I rotated her head side to side to examine it. Although they were mostly shaking ass, everyone knew their faces were one of their main money makers. A nigga wasn’t gonna throw paper on a bitch who was beaten black and blue.
“I can cover this up quick. All I need is two minutes.”
“Meet me in my office.”
“Jazzy?”
“Icey, I said meet me in my office,” I reiterated without giving her room to protest.
Defeat flashed her eyes before she nodded. She did what she could with the little time she had. Despite the fact that I wanted to catch up with her in my office, she was still looking to make her money at the end of the night, so she made sure the black eye was as covered as she could.
We made the walk into my office, and as soon as she shut the door behind her, the music from the club drowned out and a silence filled the room. “Icey, who the fuck beating your ass?” I cut straight to the chase as I hoisted myself up onto my desk.
She stood before me in her pink, sparkly floss and seven-inch pleaser heels. She was a fairly new dancer; however, she pulled her weight. Her ass moved like water, and she had a nice talk game that made niggas throw stacks at her. She expected me to ease into this conversation; however, I knew the quicker we got this shit out the way, the sooner she would be out on the floor to make some money.
“It’s nothing.”
“Girl, it’s something. So, again, who putting their hands on you?”
