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Then Sasha smiled. "Stop looking like that." Her smile turned into laughter. "I was just playing with you. Listen, honey, I am so proud of you and the way you handle yourself now. Jada, you have come so far. You’ve been ready to fly solo for a long time."
Sasha was Jada’s madam. Even though she hated the word, she was her pimp. That’s where the money was, not laying on her back with her legs in the air. Jada was giving Sasha two, sometimes three grand a week. "If I were to get a couple of girls working for me, I could pull in five, six grand a week."
From there, Jada put together her team: Diane, Bella and Simone. Their target group was the new rich—the ones who just stumbled into money—the ones who don’t quite know how to act now that they had it.
"Ballers," Diane said.
"I’m talking about music industry insiders, rappers, music producers, actors, movie and television producers, and of course ballers," Jada told her new team. And from there Jada West worked her way to the top.
It was 8:00 p.m. sharp when Black and Victor arrived at Jada’s apartment. They went up in the elevator and Black rang the bell.
"What do you want me to do?" Victor asked.
"You wait here. Make sure nobody comes in on me," Black said.
"Just stand here; that’s it?"
"That’s it," Black said as Jada opened the door. As she always did every time he saw her, Jada looked phenomenal. She was dressed in a black Herve Leger armor trim dress with a single strap across the shoulder and a string of pearls.
"Good evening, Mr. Black," Jada said and smiled.
"Good evening, Ms. West."
"Please come in," she said and stepped to the side to let him pass.
Black walked in the apartment and looked around. "Very nice place you have here, Ms. West."
"Thank you, Mr. Black. Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"
"Thank you," Black said and watched Jada as she walked toward the bar to fix his drink. He liked Jada—admired her style. Aside from being one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, Jada West had class.
Jada returned with his drink and sat down next to him. "Rémy Martin VSOP, right?"
"You remembered. I cannot help but be touched. But in your business, I’m sure little things like that are part of the job," Black said and Jada smiled.
"That’s true, but I think it’s more than that. I want to remember the things that are important to you."
"So what I drink is important to you?"
"You’re a very important man, Mr. Black. For more reasons than just business. Everything about you is important to me."
"You flatter me, Ms. West."
"You don’t have to be so formal, Mr. Black, you can call me Jada."
"Why don’t I just call you Miss Kitty," Black said.
Jada giggled and as she usually did, Black enjoyed the sound of it and the smile that came with. "Nobody has called me that in years," she said and thought back to the night she met Black. It was the same night she met The One.
Black was sitting at a table in the corner with the club’s manager, Bruce-Bruce, when he caught Jada’s eye. She was just about to make her way over there when she was surrounded by three men hollering, "Miss Kitty, Miss Kitty," and dropping money at her feet. Without taking her eyes off Black, Jada took off her outfit and went to work. When the song ended, Jada picked up her money and went back to the dressing room.
When she returned to the floor, Jada looked around the club for Black, but she didn’t see him. Jada was startled when a deep and sexy voice said, "Miss Kitty, right?"
"That’s me."
"I enjoyed watching you dance," Black said.
"Thanks. You a friend of Bruce-Bruce?"
