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“Well, I guess my dreams of finding a husband out here are shot down,” Tamia said, looking at the menu.
“No, not if you want to marry a fake actor or a wannabe Spike Lee,” Tasha joked. Tamia and I looked at each other and sighed. “I’m saying, it’s not that bad, y’all. L.A. is just a place to have fun. That’s all.”
The waitress finally came to the table after twenty minutes and took our orders. I usually would’ve complained about how long it took for her to mosey on over to our table, but it took me a while to decide what I was going to order. I’m a fan of eclectic eating, but the menu was out of control. Tamia told us Shonda’s was a soul food restaurant, but looking at the menu, I couldn’t tell what “soul” she was speaking of. They had fried chicken, but it was pineapple-infused fried chicken on top of a bed of wild rice. What a match. I settled on the pork chops in wine sauce. I was accustomed to high dining and even fusion, but some things should just be left alone.
By the time the waitress brought our food to the table, Tamia was completely intoxicated. She’d had three Midori sours and a glass of white wine a secret admirer had sent her from the bar. She was waving at every man who walked by, and she even got up and talked to a man who looked like Steve Urkel.
“Why y’all looking at me like that?” Tamia slurred, getting back in her seat.
“Because you were talking to Webster’s older brother,” Tasha said.
“He was fine, Tasha. Don’t hate the player; hate the game.” Tamia put her hand up in the air so I would give her five…but I didn’t. “What? You’re hating too, Troy?” Tamia asked, looking at me accusingly.
“He was kind of scary, Mia. I’m just saying.” I took a sip of my brandy Alexander.
“Really?” Tamia looked at the guy. He made his way to the bar. He was standing there waving at Tamia with his pants so high it looked as if his belt was wrapped around his neck. “He’s ugly? Oh no. Do y’all think I’m drunk?” Tasha kicked me under the table and we started laughing.
“Yes, baby. You’re intoxicated,” Tasha said, prying the fourth Midori sour from Tamia’s hand. “But it’s okay. Go ahead and get drunk. Both of you. I’m the designated driver for the next eight months.”
“I’m just a little stressed—you know, with the trial and everything,” Tamia said. “I just want to unwind. That’s why I’m glad y’all are here.” She did a little drunken cry. “Y’all my girls.”
“Oh, baby.” I rubbed her back reassuringly. “It’s okay. You know we get down like four flat tires.” I looked up to see a chocolate brother walking toward our table. He was handsome, but the blood-red, Suge Knight suit he was wearing made me feel like I was in a rap video.
“Oh shit, let the games begin,” Tasha said, spotting him. “Mr. Wonderful is on his way.”
“Who’s Mr. Wonderful?” Tamia asked way too loud. I eased down in my seat, hoping he hadn’t heard her.
“Diamond,” the man said. He sat down next to Tamia. “That’s my name, honey. And who are you?”
“Who told his ass to sit down?” Tasha whispered in my ear.
“Her name is Egypt and I’m Star,” I said, volunteering our club names—the names we used when we weren’t interested in men we met at the club and didn’t want them to know our real names.
“And who is the lovely flower sitting next to you?” Diamond asked, looking at Tasha.
“Her name is Beyoncé,” Tamia giggled. “Beyoncé Knowles.” I had to look away to keep from laughing.
“Mm, I love that name. It suits you.” The man took Tasha’s hand and kissed it. “Beyoncé…Beyoncé…Beyoncé…”
“Yeah, my husband does, too,” Tasha said, flashing the real diamond Lionel had bought her in the fake Diamond’s face.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Beyoncé,” Diamond said. “I just had to compliment such a lovely lady. I’ve been watching you since you came in here.”
“Sounds like a stalker to me,” Tasha said, hiding her words with her hand.
“Tell your man I’m jealous,” he added. “I’m saying, I’d do anything.” He paused. “And I’d give anything to be with a woman like you.” He slid six hundreds on the table.
“What?” Tasha said, looking annoyed. She grabbed her butter knife. “Are you trying to say I’m a damn hooker?” She was about to get up. I put my hand on her knee.
“Not in here, Tash,” I said to her. Just then mini-mini skirt woman walked up to the table and smiled at Tasha. Mini-mini Skirt whispered something into Diamond’s ear and kissed him on the cheek. Diamond shook his head and she walked away. Tasha and I looked at each other, confused.
“No, baby,” Diamond said, looking back at Tasha. “I just wanted to show you ladies where a brother’s coming from. I know y’all are from out of town because everyone up in here knows Diamond and Diamond knows everyone. Let me guess you ladies are from the East Coast…New York. Right?”
“Yeah, how did you know?” Tamia begged. I kicked Tasha under the table and tried to get Tamia’s attention, but she was too busy grinning at Diamond.
“Oh, baby girl, that’s because Diamond is flawless. I can’t go wrong, like my jewels.” He held up his hand so we could see his rings—all eight of them on one hand. It looked like he’d been playing in Grandma Lucy’s jewelry box. “Anyway,” he went on, “I figured that money would cover your meals and the bottles of Cristal the waitress is about to bring over.”
“Cristal?” Tamia jumped in.
