She threw her hands up in defeat while shaking her head. “I got into it with my nigga. It’s nothing, Jazzy. I swear. It’ll heal by the end of the week.”
I folded my arms against my chest while eyeing her. “Alright, so what got you dozing off when you’re supposed to be getting ready?”
She pursed her plump lips, debating whether she wanted to be honest with me. I wasn’t one of those bosses who ran their club like the fucking military. As long as the respect was there and motherfuckas were doing what they had to do, I wasn’t tripping off much.
“I’m gonna find out eventually. Might as well tell me now.” I shrugged my shoulders.
She groaned a little while stomping her foot. “Damn. I took a perc. My head is fucking killing me, and I just needed something to help me get through the night. I need to make this money, Jazzy.”
I shook my head while pinching the bridge of my nose. “A fucking perc? You couldn’t have found you some fucking Tylenol?”
“That shit don’t hit as fast as a perc. I needed to be in here tonight. Do you see the ballers who popped out tonight?” Icey raised her brow at me.
“Yeah, and you going out there off a perc and waterfalling liquor out the bottle will only end up with you getting fucked by a nigga who don’t give a damn if you say no.”
In turn, she smacked her lips. “You’re thinking too deep. I’ll be alright.”
“Not on my conscience. Go home, Icey.”
“What?! I can’t! I have money to make!” she protested with another stomp of her foot.
I hopped off my desk and made my way around it. I grabbed my Birkin and reached inside of it. Although Ahk’s AMEX had become my main form of payment for everything, I always carried a couple stacks with me. Priest taught me to always have cash because you never knew when you would need some. Pulling a stack out, I popped the rubber band around it and proceeded to finger through the blue bills.
“Go the fuck home. I won’t tell you again.” I held out two thousand dollars to her. Sure, it was just a fraction of what she would have made tonight, but it was better than nothing.
Clearly upset that I was making the executive decision to send her home, she stared at my hand for a minute. “Take this shit or leave it. Either way, you’re not dancing at my club tonight.”
She ended up taking the money and counting it up. “No disrespect, but what is this? I could make way more than this off lap dances.”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you popped a perc. I don’t judge, and I don’t give a fuck what you doon your free time. Just don’t do no crazy shit while at work. I’ll see you next weekend, Icey.”
Disappointment webbed her eyes as her shoulders sulked. “Alright. Sorry about this. It won’t happen again.”
“Oh, I know. I’ll have security make sure you get in your car safely.”
I used my walkie-talkie to alert security that Icey needed an escort out of the club. She thanked me before leaving my office. It wasn’t my job to tell her that she deserved better and percs weren’t going to numb the emotional and mental pain her whack-ass boyfriend was inflicting onto her. She was grown and would eventually figure out when she needed to leave that nigga alone. My job was to make sure she made her money… safely. Tonight, off a perc and all the liquor she was anticipating downing, having her working just wouldn’t be right.
The night went well. Reign was lit, and everyone enjoyed Glossy’s set. I paid Carmelo his back end, and the night ended in the wee hours of the morning… four AM. By the time I got back in my office to check my phone, Ahk had already called six times.
We agreed that an appropriate time for me to be home was by two AM. Clearly, I fucked that up.
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath.
The fact that he didn’t pull up to the club meant he was pissed. He had done so many times before; I guessed he was over it. Now that we were married, I knew he was expecting me to dial back a little bit. However, it was impossible when shit was just going so well!
After I handled the ladies’ tip outs and paid my DJ, security escorted me to my Bentley, and I sped home.
When I made it through the door, our penthouse was dead silent. I kicked off my Red Bottoms at the door and went upstairs.
“What the fuck happened to our agreement?” His voice startled me while I was in the midst of tip-toeing to the shower.
My shoulders sank as I rotated myself around to face him. He had a frown etched on his face as his thick brows bumped together. “Baby, I got caught up.”
“How many times you gone tell me that?”
I let out a deep sigh. My job wasn’t a regular one. There were gonna be nights when I wouldn’t come home until the sun came up. It was really out of my control. When I agreed to the 2 AM bullshit, he was knee deep into my pussy and I had just become Mrs. Hendrix. I’m not saying that I was bullshitting him, but clearly, I wasn’t being realistic.
He got out of bed and waltzed over to me. I could see the frustration and anger that crowded his eyes. He was pissed. “You agreed to something; you gotta fall through,” he reminded me as he peered over me.
