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Later in the ladies room, I noticed the chick in the white suit as I stood next to her at the sink. “This place is always such a mess,” she commented.
“I know. You would think that they would keep somebody in here to keep the place clean,” I told her.
“If these men only knew how nasty some of these women are, I don’t think they’d be in such a hurry to jump in bed with them.” Then she paused and thought about it. “What am I sayin’? They wouldn’t give a shit as long as they get what they want.”
“You ain’t told no lie there,” I said and looked around for something to dry my hands with.
She reached in her purse and handed me a few bar napkins. “I’m Chante,” she said extending her hand.
I dried my hands and then shook hers. “I’m Jada.”
Her eyebrows wrinkled. “Like the actress?” she asked.
I nodded my head.
“I’ve seen you here before,” she said as we walked out together.
“Yeah, I’ve been here a few times.”
“You and your friends always look so nice every time you’re here.”
“Thank you, Chante. I was telling my friend earlier that you’re wearin’ the hell out of that Gucci.”
“Thank you.”
As we made our way through the crowded club, a guy grabbed my arm with so much force, that I bumped onto Chante. “What the hell?” I screamed. I could tell he was drunk, but that didn’t stop him from trying to manhandle me. I struggled to pull free from him. Before I knew what was happening, Chante did a quick move and sent a blow to his neck.
“Goddamn! You see that shit?” I heard someone say as the drunk cowered over grabbing at his neck.
Chante turned to me. “Are you okay?”
I stood stunned to silence. I slowly nodded my head, but I was still in shock over the way she’d put him down.
She pulled me by the arm. “Come on; let’s get out of here before he gets up.”
“Why don’t you come back to my table and I’ll buy you a drink,” I offered.
She smiled. “I’d like that.”
Chante was cute, brown skinned, and had shoulder length hair that she wore bone straight with a part down the middle. I couldn’t pinpoint her age, but I immediately started wondering if she’d be interested in our line of work. Of course that’s not the kind of question you go asking complete strangers. When we got back to the table I introduced Chante to the ladies. After a round of drinks I asked, “So, tell me, Chante, what do you do?”
“Oh, nothing really,” she said. “What I mean is I used to be an executive assistant until my uncle died and left me a nice little stash. So I chucked the nine-to-five three years ago and just been havin’ a good time. But you know what they say about all good things-sooner or later, they come to an end. Lately my money is starting to look real funny,” she shrugged. “Guess I could’ve done some better planning; should’ve kept the job. But I’m hoping to find a generous donor.” She giggled.
“Well, when you find him, please let me know if he has a brother, uncle, or even a father. I’ve been looking for a member of that family for quite a while,” Simone said, sending us all into a laughing fit.
10
Over the next few weeks, Chante had hung out at the club with us a few times. I took her along a couple of times when I was going to private parties or CD release parties. She was cool to be around and the ladies liked her. I liked Chante because she was easy to talk to and she always kept it real. No pretense at all from Chante. She was straight up, no chaser, that’s what I liked about her. Whether she would make a good addition to our family was another matter. After my experience with the police over that shooting and seeing Mr. Investment Banker at the precinct, it had left me a little leery about new faces. But I still gotta eat, so I decided to invite Chante to meet me at my favorite restaurant. Besides, it would give me a chance to observe her in another atmosphere.
As I strolled into Jill’s for dinner, the place was packed and buzzing. I loved walking into a place and realizing heads were turning in my direction. I glanced around the bustling restaurant and still hadn’t seen Chante, so I figured I’d arrived early. I squeezed by two men who had been eyeing me up since I stepped onto the scene. “You looking for me?” one of them asked. I smirked at his tired- ass line and kept moving.
By the time I looked toward the back of the restaurant, I noticed none other than Chante, curled up with some sexy roughneck. “Ah-hem,” I cleared my throat.
Chante stuck her pretty little head around her friend’s and smiled up at me.
“Jada! I was just looking for you,” she said, looking like I had caught her with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Emp hmm, looking for me all up in his face, huh?” I teased.
