Hector laughed. “Let’s be honest, Black. Cruz was a problem. That’s why I sent him to New York. If he had stayed here, either I would have killed him, or he would have killed me. I told him to stay away from you, but you know how these kids are today; my telling him that only proved to drive him to a confrontation with you.”
“Trying to prove that he was better than you,” I said.
“I would say that he thought that he was smarter; knew better than me,” Hector said.
“I meant no disrespect.”
“I took none, my friend.” Hector took a sip of his drink. “You and I have no problems, Black. But I appreciate that you came down here to show respect.”
I stood up and so did Bobby. “I know that you are a busy man and have important things to do, so I’ll leave you now. You have not only my respect, but my condolences for your families’ loss,” I said. We shook hands and I left.
Bobby drove me to Biscayne Boulevard. I went inside the Epic Hotel and knocked on the door at 1908. Nina opened the door wearing a tight blue dress and I stepped inside. “Hello, Nina. You look good.”
“It’s good to see you again,” Nina said and went and sat on the bed.
“What did you want to see me about?” I asked and sat on the bed next to her.
“Do you remember what I said I wanted to do the last time I saw you?” Nina asked.
“Vaguely.”
“I said what I’d really like to do is suck that big dick and then ride you until I felt it swell up and explode inside me,” she said and began to unzip my pants.
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Yes.”
Nina took my dick from my pants and clasped her fingers together around it, and stoked it. She moved her hands up and down slowly until it was hard. She licked her lips, and I felt my dick swelling in her hands. Nina lowered her head and took me into her mouth. She ran circles around my head with her tongue. Nina slid her lips up and down, deeper and deeper, slowly, until she had taken almost all of me in her mouth.
Once she had had her fill, Nina stood up and got undressed, then she undressed me. I laid back down and watched her gliding her hands across my skin. Nina straddled my body and lowered herself onto me. Then as promised, she rode me until I swelled up and exploded inside her.
When she was done with me, Nina said good-bye and left the hotel. I took a quick shower and went downstairs where Bobby was outside waiting for me in the car. When I got in the car, Bobby shook his head and started laughing. “What?”
“You a greedy man,” Bobby said.
I laughed too. “You’re right. I’m a greedy man.” It was the name of an old James Brown song that we picked up because it fit us. “Now, brother, don’t-” we both sang. “Leave-your homework undone.” We both laughed as he drove away.
“Tell ’em one more time,” Bobby said. “Now, brother, don’t-leave-your homework undone,” we both sang. But instead of thinking about what I had just done with Nina, my mind was on Jada West.
Chapter Five
Jada West
What to do about Mike Black?
Now that is a man. Every time I see him, every time he parts those sexy lips, every time he says Ms. West, he makes me want to forget about everything, and I become his personal sex slave. And believe me, sex is something I know about. Sex is how I make my living. After spending more time than I care to admit, lying on my back with my legs in the air, I realized that the real money was in being the one who arranged for other woman to lie on their backs with their legs in the air. To me, sex is just another way to make money. The day I left Sasha, my old madam, I handed her two thousand dollars. That day I decided to get on the money-making end of that equation. In my new world, I created the women who were lying on their backs with their legs in the air working for me. They walked the way that I did, talked the way I told them to talk and they dressed and conducted themselves the way I said a lady should. The day I became the madam was the last time I had sex. But I have to say, Mike Black would be the man to change all that. I remember the first time I saw him.
“Jada!”
“What?” I asked.
“Are you listening to me?” Jenna asked.
I looked at her and smiled. “To be honest with you, Jenna, no I wasn’t.”
“At least you’re honest about it,” Jenna said and walked off. I sat for a second thinking about Jenna and how rude I’d just been to her, and I planned to apologize to her the first chance I got. I didn’t want to lose her because I knew that Jenna Bobbit had the potential to be a big earner for me.
I met her at a fashion show that was given by Pierre Preston, one of the city’s hot, new designers. That evening I wore an Akris Punto silk, long-sleeve jacket with a notched collar, three-button close front patch pockets, and satin piping. And Jimmy Choo clue leather platform snipped, peep toe slingbacks. I was sitting next to a makeup artist called Tommy Rome, when I caught my first glimpse of Jenna. One of the models had broken a heel and was limping badly trying to get off stage. Jenna came out and helped her out. “I haven’t seen her on stage tonight,” I said to Tommy.
“She’s not a model. Not anymore,” he said. Tommy went on to explain how Jenna was a hot property when she was sixteen and seventeen. But her body matured after she turned eighteen. Her breasts got fuller, her hips spread, and she got some butt. “She got fat, honey,” Tommy said. “You know these Nancy’s like these girls to be skinny as a rail.”
I looked at the model that was walking across the stage in front of me. “Practically anorexic,” I commented.
“I’m sayin’: that one is all skin and bones,” Tommy agreed. “Anyway. When Jenna couldn’t drop the weight, she was a has-been as a model. Now she dresses them.”
“I want to meet her.”
Tommy introduced us that night, I gave her my card, and after I assured her that I wasn’t a lesbian trying to pick her up, we agreed to meet for dinner the following evening. I arrived dressed in a Proenza Schouler one-shoulder bubble dress with an asymmetrical neckline wrapped along the waist’s bubble hem; Proenza Schouler wedge ankle boots; and a 24-carat diamond ring with earrings to match, and a diamond-studded watch. As we talked about her former modeling career over dinner, I could tell that she was looking at the diamonds. I was purposely vague when she asked what I did for a living. I told her that I did recruiting and training, and that seemed to satisfy her for the moment.
I spoke with her daily for the next couple of days. Nothing more than “Hi, how’s it going,” and some idle chit-chat. Then I called her early one morning and asked if she wanted to go to a party with me. “Really, Jada.”
“Really, Jenna. But this is a very upscale affair and I don’t mean to be rude, but do you have an evening gown?”
“No,” Jenna said and sounded dejected.
I told her that I would pick her up in an hour and we spent the day shopping. I bought her a Carmen Marc Valvo ruched-satin cocktail dress with a sexy double V-neck to wear that evening. Along with Jimmy Choo lance-mirrored sandals and a clutch bag to match. That night at the party, Jenna asked me again what I did for a living, but before I could answer, she said, “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you do, Jada, I want to be a part of it.”
So I told her what I did, what I would do for her, and what I wanted her to do. “Do you still want to be a part of it?” I asked.
Jenna looked me in the eyes. “When do we start?”
I brought Jenna in to replace my top earner and best friend, Diane. She was my top earner, male or female client didn’t matter, Diane put in the work. One afternoon, I was sitting around the apartment relaxing with Diane and we were talking about our increase in business. I had just offered her, her choice of the last three appointments that came in. “What times are they?”