Material Girl 2 (15 page)

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Authors: Keisha Ervin

BOOK: Material Girl 2
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“A lot,” Dylan pointed out.
“You’re right. I did, but know that I’m sorry for everything that I did wrong to you. And I know I never say it, but I love you, Dylan, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve done things that I’ve never been able to do. Like stand on your own two feet without help from no one. That takes a lot of guts, kid.”
“Candy,” Dylan cooed rubbing her mother’s hand, “please don’t hit me when I say this, but I think your face just moved.”
“Shut up, girl.” Candy slapped her gently on the hand.
“Seriously, that was like the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Don’t go gettin’ all sentimental on me.” Candy flicked her wrist, then took a sip from her cup.
“I’m not. I just hope you realize that you can do stuff on your own too.”
“Well, I did have one job there for a while.” Candy stared off into space.
“Doing what?” Dylan asked, dying to know.
“Pretending that people had backed their cars into me.”
“Check, please!” Dylan shook her head, outdone.
“Dylan, my future son-in-law here,” Clyde yelled up the steps.
“Angel didn’t tell me he was coming over today.” She panicked, knowing she looked a hot mess.
“I called him over here,” Candy announced.
“Why?” Dylan eyed her confused.
“’Cause you need a break, and hell, that’s what his ass is here for, to give you a break.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
“You know I got you, boo.” Candy rose up from the bed and looked at herself in the mirror. “I’m thinkin’ about gettin’ some more restylane injected into my lips.” Candy poked out her lips then smiled.
“Let me tell you something, Candy. You’re gettin’ old!” Dylan yelled into her ear. “And yeah, I said it. You can paralyze your whole face, lift your boobs, butt, and your neck until you’re six feet off the ground, but you can’t stop time.”
“I feel you, but I’m tryin’ to be a dime piece forever.” Candy snapped her fingers.
“Candy, the fresh-faced girl you were died a long time ago. You smothered her when you slept on your face for twenty years,” Dylan joked.
“I swear I raised a hater.” Candy popped her lips. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Clyde and I ’bout to head over to the strip club. They having a bounce-that-ass contest, and I’m determined to win.”
“Just when I thought we’d be able to get along.” Dylan shook her head.
“How you ladies doing today?” Angel asked, entering the room.
“I can’t call it,” Candy responded. “By the way,” she turned to Dylan, “I put some money in your account. Don’t go spending it all in one place.” She winked before walking out.
“So what’s going on wit’ you?” Angel took his wallet and cell phone out of his pocket and put them down on her TV stand.
“Nothin’, just tired.”
“You know you could’ve called me yourself.” He took Mason from her arms.
“I know, but you were just over here all day yesterday.”
“What that mean? Absolutely nothin’. I’m tryin’ to put in as much work as you. Just ’cause me and you ain’t together don’t mean that I’m tryin’ only be around him a few days a week. I’ma be here every day so don’t ever think that you in this alone and that you gotta do everything by yourself.”
“I’ma hold you to that,” she gave him a slight smile.
“Bet. Now what’s up, man?” Angel held Mason up. “You over here giving yo’ mama a hard time?”
“He fake. When you come around, he acts like a completely different baby.”
“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Mommy.’” He held Mason in front of Dylan so she could kiss him, which she did.
The closer Angel got to Dylan the more he could smell a foul stench come from her body.
“Ay, why don’t you go in the bathroom and put some water on that.” He eyed her with disdain.
“You tryin’ to say I stink?” She bucked her eyes and smelled underneath her arm.
“I ain’t tryin’ to say a damn thing.”
“That’s fucked up.” She got up, laughing.
“It’s fucked up I got to smell yo’ ass. Go handle that.” Angel covered his nose.
While Dylan was in the tub, Angel went into Mason’s room and fed him a bottle. Once his tummy was nice and full, he burped him and rocked him to sleep. In the other room, Dylan stepped out of the tub and draped herself in a towel. The hot bubble bath she took was much needed and refreshing. Her entire body felt renewed.
At that point, all she wanted to do was eat something and go to sleep, but with Mason, none of that was going down that easily. She’d probably be able to sneak a snack if she was lucky. Taking her time, she dried off and massaged on lavender vanilla lotion. Finished, she rummaged through her drawers and found a super cute pink T-shirt with the phrase “Do You Wanna Make Out?” written on it and a pair of black-and-white polka dot boxers. Unaware that she’d gotten out of the bath, Angel walked back into the room to grab his cell phone and wallet just as she was bending over to put her boxers on.
“Oh shit!” He turned his head. “My bad.”
“Do you know how to knock?” Totally embarrassed, Dylan covered up her private parts with her hands.
There was no way she wanted him to see her body in that shape. In Dylan’s eyes, she looked like an Oompa-Loompa.
“Get it out!” she screeched.
“You ain’t gotta yell. It ain’t like I never seen you naked before.”
“So get it out!” she stomped her foot.
“A’ight, I’m going. Chill.” Angel closed the door and started toward the kitchen.
Fully dressed, Dylan checked on Mason, who was sleeping peacefully in his crib. Being the overly cautious mother she was, Dylan placed a hand mirror over his face to make sure he was still breathing. Pleased with the results, she put the mirror up and descended down the steps to the kitchen.
“You done freakin’ out, crybaby?” Angel teased, fixing himself a roast beef sandwich on honey wheat bread.
“You know what, Angel? Suck it.” Dylan rolled her eyes. “As a matter of fact, you and your son can suck it. I can’t believe that gettin’ him to eat and sleep is so easy for you. I can’t get him do nothin’.”
“Don’t hate. Me and my li’l man got an understanding.”
“Understanding, my ass. Mason is as fake as a two-dollar bill.” She pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.
“You mean three-dollar bill, don’t you?” Angel sat down opposite her.
“Nooooo,” she frowned.
“There
is
such a thing as a two-dollar bill. You know that, right?”
“Really?” She screwed up her face. “’Cause every time I got one, I always threw it away.”
“I think I got a headache.” Angel massaged his temples.
“Oh, so I got good news,” Dylan danced happily in her seat.
“What’s up?”
“Since my book is coming out soon, I’m going to have a book release party in a few weeks.”
“That’s what’s up. I’m invited, right?”
“Of course. Just leave Maneka at home.”
“Stop it.” Angel couldn’t help but laugh too.
“See? You think she look like Maneka too.”
“I don’t know what you talkin’ about.” Grinning, he chewed his food.
“Whatever. I’m tired of talkin’ about Chewbacca anyway.” She placed her hand underneath her chin.
Talking about Milania wasn’t going to solve anything or bring her and Angel closer together, although she could tell by the look in his eyes that Milania didn’t do it for him anymore. Dylan could almost bet she didn’t rub his back or when he was down, tell him everything would be okay. The grass was much greener on her side, but Angel would figure that all out in time.
“You excited about your book?” he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“Yes.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” she smiled, gracing him with her essence.
Angel watched her in awe. Dylan was so unaware of her affect on him. She was beautiful, and like most men, Angel admired her for her physical features, but to him, her mind was much deeper. She was a winner, and he could never ignore her. It had been an honor for him to create life with her. Now, no matter what, they were forever bonded together, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Well, I’m gettin’ ready to take a quick nap while Lil Boosie bad ass is still asleep. When you leave, lock the door on the way out.” Dylan got up and scooted the chair back in.
“A’ight. I’ma sit down here and finish eating and watch a li’l bit of this Cardinal game before I leave.”
“Okay,” she said going up the steps.
The thought of asking him if he wanted her to stay crossed her mind, but Dylan knew if she sat on the couch next to him for too long, she couldn’t be held responsible for what she might do, so she decided that heading up the stairs was the best thing to do. Unbeknownst to Dylan, Angel was thinking the exact same thing. He truly enjoyed spending his time with her and the baby.
When he was around them, it felt like they were a real family. He was comfortable. Nothing else in the world mattered. He wasn’t stressed. Everything was good. That was, until he headed back to the hotel with Milania. Nowadays, everything seemed to be an argument and the crazy amount of money she was spending on their engagement party was driving Angel up the roof.
Not up for another headache, he grabbed a throw pillow and placed it on the arm of the couch and lay down. The Cardinals were playing the Cubs, but Angel only got ten minutes into the game before his eyes became heavy and he fell asleep.
 
“You know what, yo? You a bitch!”
Chris Brown, “Deuces Remix”
14
“What the fuck?” Angel jumped out of his sleep.
The heart-pounding sound of someone ramming a fist into the door woke him up. Getting off the couch, Angel wobbled down the steps still trying to wake up. Whoever was at the door was now not only knocking loudly but ringing the doorbell simultaneously. The booming noise was so loud that the baby woke up screaming and hollering.
“Who is it?” Angel yelled.
“Yo’ fiancée, nigga!” Milania yelled.
Angel swung open the door. Milania stood with a furious expression on her face. Her chest heaved up and down. She looked as if she’d thrown on the first thing she saw and drove over in a hurry. She hadn’t even bothered to comb her hair.
“What the fuck is you doing?” He looked at her like she was insane.
“Angel, who the hell is that?” Dylan shouted from upstairs while trying to calm the baby down.
Angel didn’t even get a chance to reply before Milania started going off on him.
“So not only do you spend all day over here, but now you don’t even come home at night? Who the fuck do you think you are? Better yet, who the fuck do you think
I
am? If you wanna be with this bitch, then be with the bitch! But you ain’t gon’ fuck around on me and expect me not to say nothin’ about it! You ain’t that rich, nigga!”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about? I fell asleep!” he roared with anger.
“And I guess I got the word
dumb
written across my face?” Milania placed her hands on her hips.
“Right now, you do ’cause I ain’t even did nothin’! If you would stop showin’ yo’ ass for half a second, then maybe you would see that I’m fully dressed!”
“That don’t mean shit!” Milania snapped, unfazed.
With the baby in her arms Dylan stood at the top of the steps and said, “You and this trifling bitch gots to go!”
“Fuck you!” Milania threw up her middle finger.
“Okay, let me put my baby up ’cause this bitch must not know who my mama is.” Dylan headed toward her room.
“Dylan, chill. Just take the baby back upstairs for me, please,” Angel begged.
“I’m not playin’ wit’ you, Angel. You better check yo’ ho!” Dylan rolled her eyes hard. “And lock my goddamn door on the way out!”
 
 
“You out yo’ fuckin’ mind coming over her house clownin’ like that!” Angel yelled, walking into their suite.
“I
said
I was sorry.” Milania sucked her teeth, throwing down her purse.
“What the fuck that mean to me? The damage already been done now!” he shouted, seething with anger.
“I thought—”
“You thought
what?
” He jumped in her face.
“Let’s not play dumb. We both know she got feelings for you, so when you didn’t come home, I thought you two were messin’ around.”
“Well, we weren’t, and just so you know, Dylan ain’t even came to me on no shit like that!”
“Brownie points for her.” Milania clapped her hands mockingly. “So what you tryin’ to say if she was on you, you would be okay wit’ that?”
“Yo’, I’ma be real wit’ you.” Angel wiped his face with his hands. “I ain’t feelin’ this shit no more.”
“What?”
Milania threw her head back, aghast.
“I don’t think this gon’ work.” Angel paced back and forth. “I think we rushed into this way too fast, and I got a lot going on right now that obviously you can’t handle.”
“And you tellin’ me this the night before our engagement party?” She stopped him, getting up in his face.
“The timing might be fucked up, but this how I feel.”
Milania’s back was up against the wall. She and Angel had fought before, and he’d threatened ending their relationship, but this time he was serious. It was written all over his face. She had to do damage control and fast. She’d come too far to lose Angel now.
“Angel, please don’t do this. I love you. Please don’t leave me. Don’t do this to me. Not now.” She forced herself to cry, but this time, Angel wasn’t buying it.
“Look, I gotta go.” He pulled away.
“Are you coming back?” She ran her hands through her hair like she was pulling it up into a ponytail.
“Nah, I’ma chill somewhere else tonight.”
“Why?” she cried.
“I’ll call you later or something.” He opened the door.
“What about tomorrow? Are you even gon’ come?”
“I don’t know. Just give me a minute.” He walked out not even bothering to close the door behind him.
Milania wiped the tears away from her eyes. This time she’d gone too far, and she couldn’t put the blame off on Dylan. This time it was all her. She’d played the wrong hand and now was suffering the consequences for it. She just prayed that Angel still had a little bit of love left for her ’cause there was no way that she was going to head back to California without a marriage certificate in her hand.
 
 
The ballroom at the Four Seasons was decorated to perfection by acclaimed party designer Preston Bailey. Romantic shades of purples and gold highlighted the room. On each table were pebbled glass chargers and vibrant beaded napkin rings over brocade tablecloths. Two hundred fifty of their closest friends and family, including Giselle Bundchen and Tom Brady, were invited to dine on sumptuous Italian cuisine and later dance to a 1930s-inspired jazz band and legendary DJ Funkmaster Flex.
Running behind, Milania sat quietly while getting primped and primed for her grand entrance. Totally delusional and unwilling to accept defeat, Milania hoped and prayed that Angel would change his mind and be by her side to escort her in. She’d been calling him all day, but each time, she went straight to voice mail. Despite the nervousness that plagued her, Milania kept it cool, calm, and collected on the outside.
The only person who really knew how she felt was Ashton. They’d gone over the entire fiasco earlier that day. Milania would never discuss her business in front of the dream team of professionals who did her hair and makeup. People would sell her Social Security number to the tabloids, let alone relationship info. Milania couldn’t risk it leaking to the public that her fairytale engagement was starting to crack. It would ruin her.
But then again, all press is good press,
she thought.
“So which dress are you going to wear?” Ashton asked, breaking her train of thought.
“I think the gold Marchesa.” Milania pointed to the rack of her clothes.
“Luvs it.” Ashton glanced down at her phone and checked the text message she’d just received.
“Amber just texted me and said she’s downstairs, so I’ma head down to meet her.”
“Okay, tell Miss Rose I said, ‘hey, doll,’” Milania said, still on edge.
Noticing her panicked demeanor, Ashton rubbed her shoulders and said, “Everything’s going to be all right. Remember, we have the golden ticket.” Ashton referred to the sex tape. “And if that isn’t enough, you always got me,” she winked.
“Thanks, girl.”
“See you in a second.” Ashton made her way over to the door and opened it.
To her astonishment and dismay, on the other side of the door stood Dylan with her hand in the air, midknock. Instantly the hood chick in Ashton kicked into high gear. Standing back on one leg with her upper lip curled, she shouted over her shoulder, “Milania!”
“Yes!”
“It looks like you forgot to take out the trash.” Ashton eyed Dylan up and down and shot her the nastiest look she could muster.
“What?”
Milania met her in the living area. The sight of Dylan’s face made her blood boil.
“You want me to stay?” Ashton asked, ready to throw down.
“Nah, I got this,” Milania assured her.
“Girl, please,” Dylan scoffed.
She wasn’t afraid of either Ashton or Milania. As far as she was concerned, both of them could get it. Before leaving, Ashton shot Dylan another dirty look, then slipped past her, and boarded the elevator down the hall.
“Is Angel here?” Dylan asked dryly.
“No,” Milania shot back even dryer.
“Then tell him I stopped by.” Dylan turned to walk away.
“So I guess your plan was an epic failure!” Milania yelled, causing her to stop midstride.
“What plan?” Dylan spun around on her heels.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know that today we’re having our engagement party.” Milania met her in the center of the hallway.
“Actually, I didn’t, so you can stop with the foolishness. I came to give Angel his wallet and his cell phone.” She held it up. “He left them at my house last night.”
“You can give them to me.” Milania tried to snatch them from her hand.
“Did you hear anything I said? I came to give
Angel
his stuff, not you, leech. I ain’t giving you shit,” Dylan jerked her hand back before she could grab it. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have better things to do then stand here and argue with you.” Dylan tried walking away again.
“You really think it’s gon’ be that easy?” Milania yelled after her.
“My God! What is it now, Milania?” Dylan snapped, fed up. “I mean, damn, ain’t you tired?”
“Of course I am. I’m tired of
you
. I thought by now after all the hard work I’ve put into gettin’ rid of you, you would’ve been long gone by now.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“Let me it break down for you.” Milania stepped up and got in her face. “I have been doing everything in my power to make you disappear, including not tellin’ Angel you were pregnant after I checked his phone.”
Dylan’s eyes grew wide with amazement.
“Yeah, that’s right, I did it,” Milania basked in her glory. “And I lied to the media and told them that State was your baby’s father. Oh, and that li’l lunch date we had was a setup, of course. But understand . . . I’m nowhere near done with you. I got far more in store for you, sweetheart. So if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you pretend like Angel is a memory and stay the fuck away from him or else I’m going to make your life a living hell.”
“What are you . . . one of Satan’s babies?” Dylan’s heart raced.
“No, bitch, I’m your worst fuckin’ nightmare. And if you think it’s a game, try me,” Milania threatened.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy.” Dylan balled up her fist ready to hit her.
“And if you even think about runnin’ back and tellin’ Angel anything I said, it won’t matter ’cause he won’t believe you. ’Cause just like I got this ten-carat diamond ring on my finger, I got him wrapped around my pinky as well.”
“Is that right?” Angel said, walking down the hall.
He’d just gotten off the elevator and overheard everything, but her confession didn’t mean anything. After thinking long and hard the night before at his sister’s house Angel had decided to break up with her anyhow. Her confession only solidified his decision.
“Baby?” Milania quickly pulled herself together and smiled. “When did you get here?”
“I’ve been here long enough to hear the truth.”
“Dumb bitch,” Dylan giggled. “Here you go.” She tossed Angel his wallet and phone and proceeded down the hallway.
“Baby, I can explain,” Milania began as he walked past her and into the suite.
“Save it,” Angel replied tersely. “Lying is like breathing to you. I don’t wanna hear shit you got to say, and if anybody is in here, it’s time for you to get the fuck out!”
Seconds later, the entire team of hair and makeup artists scurried out of the bathroom with their supplies in hand and ran out the door.
“Angel, baby, it’s not what you think. Calm down,” Milania tried to reason, feeling as if she was about to faint.
“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!” Angel pointed his fingers like a gun in her face, scaring her half to death. “There ain’t shit you can say! So just grab the shit you came here wit’ and bounce!”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Milania said, stunned.
“Do it fuckin’
look
like I’m playin’? This shit is a wrap! I should’ve never fucked wit’ yo’ ass in the first place, you trifling bitch!”
“You’re right, ’cause I’m too fuckin’ good for you,” Milania shot back, done with pretending.
Angel instantly burst out laughing. “You out yo’ mind? You
got
to be jokin’, right?”
“No, I’m not! You’ve already served your purpose anyway! Fuck you! You can have that stank bitch if that’s what you want ’cause I’m done wit’ you! You’ll never be nothin’ without me!”
“Bitch, please! You gon’ be hot a little while! I’ma be rich forever!”
“Whateva!” She went to grab her things, but Angel blocked her path.
“Where you think you going?” He looked down at her.

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