Wifey: Part 1

ready for war. At the same time, I realized I had fucked up by accidentally sending her that text message and I wanted to make sure that I hadn’t put Nico in a bad spot. I had sent the text to Nico like I had initially intended to do but he didn’t respond so I didn’t know what to think.

I paced around in my motel room wondering what Mia was really going do. She seemed far from the rah-rah type, but at the same time I knew that it was always the quiet ones that you had to watch out for because they were the ones that would strike like a snake and catch you off guard. I called Simone just to let her know what was up.

“Get your sneakers and Vaseline ready,” I said to Simone. This was the first time I had spoken to her since she threw up in my father’s car that night. And I was still upset with her.

“You got beef?” Simone said without hesitation. Simone was all over the place at times and she pissed me off a lot, but she was my home girl for real and always had my back, no matter what.

“Yeah, this bitch named Mia, she just called my phone flipping the fuck out, talking about why I was calling her man and all that bullshit. She’s like if I call her man again there’s going to be a problem. So I was like, ‘Bitch, you know where to find me. I’m right in the hood—a Hundred and Ninth and Guy R. Brewer Boulevard—and if I wanted your man, believe me I would have him.’”

“You ain’t gotta say nothing else,” Simone said. “I’m getting dressed right now.”

“Nah, I’m not even home. Fuck her ass. I’m just saying be ready because if this bitch show up at my crib later on tonight or whenever on some bullshit I’m calling you.”

“Oh, no doubt, I’m there. You know I got your back. But who is Mia? And who is her man?”

“Her man is Nico. You was probably too drunk to remember he was the one who bought us the bottle of Nuvo at the club the other night. He gave me his number, and I called him. These chicks kill me, always ready to step to the next chick, but it’s their man that they need to be checking.”

Just then I heard a knock at the door of my motel room. “Simone, I gotta go, but keep your phone on in case I need you,” I said.

“Definitely.”

I turned my phone off and put it away. There was another knock at my door. I paused to gather myself, blowing out some air from my lungs in an attempt to decompress. Mia had really worked my nerves, and I had a job to do, so the last thing I wanted was for my mind to be on drama.

After I was done gathering myself, I made it to the door and opened it after looking through the peephole.

“Hey, Chyna?”

“Yes. Hi.” I tried to make my smile as natural as possible. Chyna was my escort name. “Mike, right?”

“Yes.”

I could tell Mike was nervous, which always made me feel a bit more comfortable. That way it would help me feel a bit more assured that I wasn’t dealing with a cop.

“So is this your first time?” I asked Mike as I closed the door behind him. I was wearing a nice form-fitted top, tight jeans, and black high heels.

“Yes, and no. Yes, it’s my first time with a black girl, but no, it’s not my first time.”

I smiled then double-checked the door to make sure that it had definitely slam-locked.

“Oh, well, I feel special then. You know what they say. Once you go black, you’ll never go back.”

Mike laughed. I could tell he was starting to feel a bit more relaxed.

“Well, Mike, you can have a seat on the bed. You can get comfortable, and what I’ll do is, I’ll go into the bathroom and freshen up, and in the meantime you can put any gifts that you have for me right there on the table or next to the TV.

Mike nodded, indicating that he understood where I was coming from.

I made my way into the bathroom of the motel room I had booked for the day. It wasn’t the nicest of motels, but it was located not too far from Kennedy Airport, which meant that I would profit more from the money I earned turning tricks and at the same time I didn’t have to travel too far to get my money.

Nobody knew about my secret hustle, and there wasn’t any way in hell that I would’ve ever told anybody how I got down. I rolled totally independent, so there was no one pimping me or none of that, and I planned to keep things that way. But, on the real, I hated each and every trick I turned and couldn’t wait until I could find another way to maintain my lifestyle without working and going to school. As far as I was concerned, fucking for money wasn’t the best option for me, but it wasn’t exactly the worst either. And with Shabazz’s unpredictable ass, it wasn’t like I could definitely depend on him for cash, so I had to do what I had to do.

In the bathroom I quickly changed into my white stilettos, a white see-through thong, and a white see-through bra. I had already taken a shower, but as part of my routine with each john, I took a warm washcloth and slid it across my shaved pussy, and then I took some perfume and sprayed some on my chest, neck, wrists, and on my panties. I took some Scope mouthwash and swooshed it around in my mouth and then spat it out before exiting the bathroom.

“Wow! That’s a transformation,” Mike said.

I gave him a fake smile, but at this point I was strictly concerned with my money. I headed straight to the table, located on the opposite end of the room. The nine crisp twenty-dollar bills brought a real genuine smile to my face. Mike had paid for one hour’s worth of pussy. I gathered the money and told him that he could get undressed. Then I walked back to the bathroom and placed the money in my bag. Afterwards I retrieved a condom, which I held in my left hand, and I also retrieved my cell phone, which I held in my right. I made a fake call to my voice mail and returned to the room, where Mike could see me on the phone, and asked him to give me one minute.

“Yeah. Yes, I’m OK,” I said into the phone, acting like I was talking to someone. Just in case Mike was some psycho-ass serial killer, it would make him think twice. “One hour. OK cool,” I added before hanging up the phone.