There was a lot to step into. The loss of a wife and mother. A motherless little boy. A grieving father. And me…a fiercely independent woman whose never been around kids longer than a few hours. I would be expected to take on the role of an innocent's child's mother. Could I do it? And if I did—would I eventually miss the freedom I had?
I would like to think that love would carry me, but I wasn't naïve enough to believe that it would be enough. I would be stepping into trauma. Bone deep, and if I didn't handle this carefully, I would wind up hurting them both all over again.
I sat in the lounge area with my legs crossed as I waited for my client. One of my regulars. A banker with an appetite for being praised. He always wanted me to call out his name and tell him how big he was. The dick size was average at best, but I would holler out whatever he wanted for the right price.
My alarm buzzed alerting me of the ten-minute mark before arrival. I quickly stood and made my way back to my suite to make sure I looked perfect. I reapplied my liner and gloss which I had licked off in my thinking. Smoothing down the short, leather dress I was wearing, I fluffed out my curls.
Head tilted, I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment. Things were about to change quickly and I could feel it. I just prayed that I would be prepared for whatever new course my life took me on.
With a final sigh, I walked out of the room, black stiletto heels clicking on the polished hardwood floors as I made my downstairs slowly. Hands gliding down the railing carefully, because these were new heels and I was just breaking them in.
As I hit the landing, I noticed Monroe. That wasn’t what made me pause. It was the expression on her face as she spoke. Whoever she was speaking to was hidden by the pillar. A weird feeling churned in my gut and I slowly walked closer.
My eyes widened when I saw that this bitch was talking to my client. My footsteps drew their attention—they both turned to me. Monroe's calculating eyes raked over me, a smirk on her face. My client was blinking rapidly as he swallowed deeply, his finger gliding under his dress shirt and adjusting it in discomfort.
"Dylan—hi." I walked over, eyes flicking to them both in confusion. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting long. I just wanted to freshen up a bit." I focused my full attention to him with a smile.
Dylan cleared his throat, eyes moving away from mine. "No. I just walked in actually."
What the fuck did she say to him?
I stepped closer.
He stepped back.
My eyes shifted to Monroe. She gave me a slick smile.
"Actually, Gianna—I think I'm going to head out. Something came up. Take care." He threw up his hand in a good-bye, and without giving me a chance to respond, he hurried out.
Monroe laughed. "Damn, Gianna, he ran out of here like you had the plague." She looked me up and down. "Guess that new car smell is wearing off, huh?"
She pivoted to walk away. I grabbed her by her arm, snatching her back. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"What the fuck did you say to him?" I demanded between clenched teeth.
She snatched her arm away. "Don't you ever put your fucking hands on me," she snapped.
"I'ma put my fist down your throat in a minute, bitch, if you don't tell me what you said," I countered voice rising.
"Bitch—!"
Monroe looked like she was about to get buck. I slid off my heels preparing to drag this bitch out the door, when one the security guards—Zay—strode down hearing our raised voices. He immediately got in between us. "Y'all know better. We don’t do no fighting in here."
"It's gon' be a murder in this bitch in a minute if this ho keeps playing with my money!" I fired back.
"It absolutely the hell won't be." We all turned at the sound of Madam's voice as she walked towards us, her face set in displeasure. "I know I'm not seeing two of my best girls creating a ruckus in my house, am I?"
"You see how she acts, Madam? A typical hoodrat." Monroe huffed pointing towards me, feigning innocence.
"Thishoodrat'bout to give you a hood ass whooping!" I attempted to sidestep Zay, but he held me back easily.
At this point, some of the other girls and clients who were waiting had heard the noise and were congregating in the hallways. I didn’t care. I was so sick and tired of this jealous bitch. She could make all the snide remarks she wanted, but when it came to fucking up my bag we had a problem.
"Zay, take her to my office now," Madam stated sharply.
Zay basically picked me up and carried me to Madam's office. He plopped me down on the chair in front of her desk. "Stay," he pointed.
I slapped his finger out of my face. "I'm not a fucking dog," I snapped.
