Ladies Night (14 page)

Amp sat in the car, waiting for Madam to exit the county government building. She'd been in there for nearly an hour by the time he finally saw her coming out. She was stoic, wearing a strong front on her face as she made her way to the car. Amp got out and opened the passenger door for her.

She settled into her seat, looking straight ahead. There was no eye contact between them, and no “Thank you for waiting.” She was silent. Amp stole a quick glance at her. He saw her eyelids fluttering, and he knew she was fighting off tears. Had she spoken, her voice probably would have cracked.

Amp wanted to ask what was bothering her, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. He didn't want to overstep his boundaries and have her think that he was snooping in her business. If she'd wanted him to know all the details, then she would have told him. So instead, he said nothing. He just started the car.

Her emotions got the best of her, and Madam turned her face toward the window as a tear ran down her face. Amp had to ask her what was going on at this point. He couldn't just drive down the street with a crying woman and show no concern at all.

“Is it something that you can talk about?” Amp shifted the car in drive, leaving his foot on the brake.

Madam was quiet for a moment, but she looked over to Amp and saw the genuine concern on his face. “There's . . . a really good chance—” She paused to wipe a tear that rolled down her cheek. “I'm going to end up losing my club.” She shook her head as the dam broke and the tears came harder. She'd tried so hard to maintain her composure and keep her dignity, but Amp recognized that she'd dedicated her life to building her business, so even the possibility of a loss must have been incredibly painful for her.

“I worked so hard to have something of my own. And now this . . .” she cried.

Amp knew what it was like to lose everything, so he could relate to her pain. “Is there anything that the rest of us can do to help?” he offered.

Madam shook her head.

“Look, I get the ‘I'm strong and I can do it by myself' thing, I do, but you have a whole team of people that can help—if you just tell us how.”

She didn't answer him, so he just sat there for a while as her tears continued to roll. Sometimes a good cry was what a person needed, to just let it all out.

Amp started thinking about all of the times he'd felt desperate and wished someone had been there for him. He was determined to help Madam now. He tried again to reassure her. “No matter how bad it looks, you don't strike me as the type of person that's just gonna give up.”

She still didn't answer, so he decided he'd better give her some space. He would try again later to get her to talk. For now, he put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

Amp drove himself back to the halfway house with no conversation taking place between him and Madam. After he was sure that she had calmed down enough to drive, he turned her keys over to her.

“Madam,” he said before getting out of the car, “you know you can call me if you need anything.” He would be there for her. After all, she had given him a chance, and Amp was loyal to those that were there for him.

 

 

When Amp arrived back at Club Eden later that night, it wasn't opened for the public yet. El Fuego, Babyface, and Casanova were talking by the bar.

“What's going on, Amp?” Casanova greeted.

“Same stuff, different day,” Amp replied, giving him dap.

“Check it out,” El Fuego said with a slight Latin accent. Whenever he was hollering at the ladies, he always had his accent on level ten. There was just something about the women hearing his deep Latin accent that made them really go into their purses. “These rich chicks hired me to do a private party for them this weekend. They saw your act last week and asked me to bring you along. It's two stacks, plus tips, for two hours.”

“Damn.” Amp's eyes dang near popped out. “They paying you that kind of money, you gon' have to bang them rich old broads.”

“I'm gonna make three or four grand in two hours, my friend. I don't care.” He said it and he meant it. Everyone knew El Fuego was in a bind similar to Amp's. On top of having to cover his own monthly expenses, he was sending money back home to Mexico to help his family. He had a huge family, and within the Latin culture it's family first, so El Fuego was not above occasionally putting it on a woman or two at the private parties for some extra money. The rest of the guys never acted like they knew about it. It was his business.

“I'm good, bro.” Amp shook his head then looked to Casanova. “Cass, you going?”

“Nope,” he replied without hesitation. “I don't do private parties.”

“Why not?” Amp asked.

“Well . . . I, uh . . .” Casanova stammered. He couldn't get the words out, so El Fuego answered for him.

“He's super religious.”

“I am not,” Casanova said.

“You repent, pray, and say ten
Hail Marys
after each dance.” El Fuego laughed.

“So what? I'm asking for forgiveness,” Casanova said, straightening the cross pendant on his necklace.

El Fuego raised his hands in surrender. “I'm not judging you. I just think it's hilarious that one minute you're in the locker room quoting scriptures, and the next minute you're out here with a Zorro outfit on.”

Amp and Babyface busted out laughing, but Casanova did not look amused.

“Fellas, listen up,” Madam said as she eagerly entered the bar area, interrupting their conversation. “I need all of you guys in my office now.” She didn't even wait for a response as she kept walking right on by them, the sound of her heels clicking all the way into her office.

The guys gave each other questioning looks as they followed behind her.

“Not you, Babyface,” Madam said as she settled in behind her desk.

Babyface stopped in his tracks and held his hands up in wonderment. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” Madam said. “I need you to take care of something. One of your women is making a scene in my parking lot. She's out there right now tearing up your car and singing.”

His face twisted up in confusion. “Singing?” he asked just as everyone heard the sound of shattering glass. Babyface ran outside the club. Everyone else stayed put for a second, but as the noise escalated, Madam decided to forgo her impromptu meeting.

“Maybe you all should follow him out there, just in case,” she said.

Out in the parking lot, Babyface yelled, “Valerie! What are you doing?”

“I bust the windows out your car. . . .” Valerie was sobbing and singing the song by Jasmine Sullivan at the same time. She wore a T-shirt with pajama pants and fluffy house shoes, and her messy hair was sticking to the tears on her face. She didn't look like a woman who was in her right mind. The bat she was using to bust the headlights on Babyface's black Dodge Charger completed the picture of a woman gone mad.

Babyface approached his car, keeping a safe distance from Valerie so that she didn't knock his lights out as well. Ol' girl kept singing and swinging.

“Valerie, stop!” he shouted.

She stopped momentarily to look at Babyface through her red, puffy eyes. “Why should I?” Valerie sobbed. “You around here messing with other chicks, driving them around in the car I bought you! I pay the note on this car, so I can tear it up if I want to.”

“Val, please. I don't know what you're talking about. I—”

“Don't you dare patronize me!” Valerie snapped. “I know what my eyes saw, but just in case, I captured it on my cell phone camera too. You wanna see?”

This was not a joke. Valerie was really busting up his car, which must have meant she really had hardcore evidence against him.

Valerie raised the bat to hit the car again, and Babyface stepped closer. He couldn't just stand back and let her demolish his ride.

She turned her attention to Babyface and shrieked, “You might as well have just stabbed me in the stomach with a knife. I've never felt this kind of hurt, because I've never loved any man as I loved you.” Her pain was obviously intense. “How could you throw away two years? How could you do this to me?”

She started walking slowly toward him with the bat now gripped in both hands. It was positioned behind her head as if she were ready to hit a homerun.

Amp decided it was time to intervene. He was thinking about the best way to try to get the bat away from her. She had clearly snapped, and Amp knew all too well that this could end badly.

“Stop!”

Everyone turned in the direction of the voice to find Madam walking toward them.

“The police will be here in two minutes,” Madam told Valerie. “So if you don't want to go to jail tonight, you better get out of here.”

Madam's statements must have registered with Valerie, because she slowly lowered the bat. She looked to Babyface, back to Madam, and then headed toward her car, dragging the bat on the ground.

Pausing in front of Babyface's car for a moment, she swung the bat one more time. Babyface cringed as the last headlight exploded.

“We'll talk about this when I get home tonight. Okay, babe?” he said in a sugary voice.

Valerie didn't respond. She simply threw the bat into her car, got in, and drove away, giving Babyface the look of death as she passed him.

“You're gonna end up on
Snapped
if you go home to her tonight,” Madam said, watching the madwoman drive away. “That girl's gonna kill you.”

“You're right,” he acknowledged. “And thanks for saving me.”

“I had to. She was wasting my time, and I couldn't start this meeting without you and the guys. Come on.” She waved her hand, signaling for everyone to come back inside.

 

 

This was the first time since Amp started working there that he had been called to a meeting. He wondered if it had anything to do with that trip to the government office earlier.

Madam sat down at her desk, took a sip of her signature red wine, and then got straight to the point. “The bottom line is I may lose this building.”

The men were speechless as they stared at Madam, waiting for her to continue. She said nothing else, though. Clearly it had been hard enough for her to admit that much.

“I thought you owned it.” Dr. Feelgood had a puzzled look on his face.

“I do,” Madam confirmed. “Apparently my accountant—actually, ex-accountant—hasn't been paying the property taxes on this building. He kept the money I gave him to do so, and now no one can find him. So, long story short, unless I can come up with that money, the county is going to seize the building and sell it to pay the back taxes.”

Babyface spoke next. “Exactly how much money are we talking about? And how much time?”

“I have sixty days to pay them two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” Madam said.

“Dayum,” was the general reaction to the amount owed and the short amount of time she had to pay the debt.

Silence fell over the room for a moment, until Casanova folded his hands together and said, “We need to pray.”

“Cass, this ain't the time,” El Fuego said.

“There is always time for Jesus! Always!” Casanova was adamant.

Madam calmly took a sip of her wine. “You can pray for us later, Cass. Right now, let's focus.”

“Is that even possible?” Amp questioned. “To make that kind of money in sixty days?”

Madam shook her head. “I don't know, but we're going to damn sure try. I have a little bit saved up, so that should help, but we are going to have to pull some money together and fast. Now, this won't affect the money you make at all. I know y'all need this place as much as I do, so I am going to need everyone's help.”

Madam stood and began pacing as she ran down the game plan to her players. “We're going to have to pull double and triple duty some days, meaning two events, and sometimes three, per day.”

No one spoke up to disagree, so Madam continued. “Also, I want to do a big exotic auction featuring you guys. It'll be a great way to raise some money, and I can bring in some of your high-dollar customers for that event. And if any of you have any ideas, feel free to share. This is going to take all of us to pull this off.”

Dr. Feelgood looked up, and his eyes landed on the calendar on the wall. “We could do a calendar, and all the money we raise can go toward the club,” he suggested.

“That's a good idea,” Amp agreed. Although he hadn't been around as long as the other dancers, he had developed a true respect for Madam. From the moment he'd met her in the park, he'd admired her business sense. And, of course, he also appreciated the fact that she put him on, even if it did mean her insurance would go up a little. She gave him a chance.

“While we're out selling the calendars,” Amp contributed, “we can promote the auction.”

“That could work,” Madam agreed.

“It's going to have to!” El Fuego said matter-of-factly. “I need this job.”

“We all do,” Babyface said.

Madam checked the time. “Doors open in thirty minutes. Let's have a great night.”

Babyface, El Fuego, and Casanova started to file out of the room while Amp went to the cabinet to find an outfit, since he hadn't had time that afternoon. With the bomb Madam just dropped on them, it was going to be hard to have a great night, but business was business. Once they hit that stage, they had to leave their personal lives behind and focus on business—even if the threat of losing the club made it personal.