Dirty Work: Part 1

Before he climbed into the car, Papa John took one last look at the Ferrari 458 and once again imagined getting his dick sucked in the front seat while doing over a hundred miles per hour on the freeway. He looked at Kip and said, “One day, I’m gonna get me one of these, and I’m gonna have an orgasm in it while speeding on the highway.”

Kip laughed. “You crazy, nigga.”

“I’m just fun. You know you have the same fantasy. Don’t front, nigga.”

Kip continued to laugh.

They both climbed inside the Nissan Quest and sped away. Another day, another dollar.

Eight

Oh shit, this is my song right here!” Eshon and Jessica both shouted out simultaneously, as “The Worst” by Jhené Aiko blared through the large club speakers.

The girls jumped to their feet from the bar and started to dance and sing the lyrics to the song with their cups of Alizé in their hands.

Club Rose in the Village was booming with dozens and dozens of partygoers, from heterosexual males to flaming homosexuals, to well-dressed transgenders, to some of the sexiest ladies in town. The large nightclub on Morton Street was a haven for those especially comfortable with their sexuality. The club boasted of a ten-thousand-square-foot space, two full bars, a giant disco ball, go-go dancers, and colored lights. The regal entryway was only the beginning to stepping into a marvelous party.

The dance floor was crowded, and in some private areas, people were snorting lines of coke and swallowing ecstasy. Everyone was super hyped.

The girls lingered by the bar, mingling with some cuties and partying, but they were also searching for another possible mark for Kip. Working for Kip was their primary income, and so far the money was good. There were a lot of players and ballers as well as flashy homosexuals partying in Rose. A certain song came on, and two men started vogue-dancing in the middle of the dance floor. It was very entertaining.

Eshon laughed and downed her drink. Brandy beamed with excitement, and Jessica was the eye candy for the night. The girls didn’t have to pay for their own drinks; they were complimentary from the men admiring their beauty, especially Jessica’s.

From the bar, they saw Maserati Meek in attendance. He had his own VIP area, and he was with his main lady, Nia, and his entourage of goons. Their area was cluttered with champagne, women, and drug use, and Meek was in the middle of it all, having a good time and looking like a foreign prince in his expensive jewelry and long hair styled into a ponytail. The girls had never met Meek personally, but they knew he was off-limits because he worked with Kip.

Maserati Meek was a very dangerous man, though sometimes he didn’t look like it. The interesting man transfixed Jessica. He seemed to have it all, and he seemed to be a fun guy. The woman he was with couldn’t hold a candle to her, but she was living the good life, looking like she could walk a red carpet in her designer dress, her diamonds costing more than an average house.

The night continued with the girls inching their way toward the VIP section. They wanted to catch a nigga’s attention. Whether for pleasure or profit, it didn’t matter to them.

Eshon and Brandy went off to have a good time on the dance floor when “Part II (On the Run)” by Jay Z and Beyoncé played throughout the club. They danced together, leaving Jessica alone at the bar.

Once more, Jessica glanced Maserati Meek’s way and admired his flavor. He was a handsome man. For a fleeting moment, they locked eyes, but he suddenly turned away from the Spanish beauty in the striking tight dress.

Not too much later, she heard a man say to her, “You’re looking good tonight in that dress, ma. What’s your name?”

Jessica glanced his way and gave him the once-over. Definitely not her type. He was too black, too short, and he didn’t look important at all.

“Fuck off, cabrón!”

He chuckled. “Damn, ma, don’t kill the messenger.” He continued with, “You definitely caught my boss’s attention with your pretty face and your dress. He would love to get to know you better.”

“And who’s your boss?”

The man motioned toward Maserati Meek in

VIP. “If you know how to keep your mouth shut, then my boss thinks that you and he can have a beautiful time together.” Then he passed a number to her on the sly.

Jessica was no fool. She took the small piece of paper and placed it into her decorated clutch bag. From the outside looking in, it looked like Meek’s goon was the one hollering at Jessica. It was like a dream come true for her because, damn it, she was just admiring the man from afar and yearning to be in Nia’s position. She needed a baller in her life, the type to whisk her away on exotic vacations and finance outrageous shopping sprees in foreign countries.

His job done, the man walked away.

It was hard for Jessica to keep her composure. She wanted to do cartwheels inside the club. She planned on calling him soon and throwing her sexiness, beauty, and good pussy his way to get him sprung. She looked at Nia and felt confident that she could strip a good man like Maserati Meek away from that plain-looking bitch.

Brandy and Eshon rejoined Jessica by the bar after a long moment of dancing.

Brandy asked her, “Girl, who was that nigga hollering at you?”

“You know, some hombre interested in this good, good coño,” she said jokingly.