Pretty Girls in the Vip (9781617730283) (12 page)

“The girls on that site are the ones you have to watch out for. They are all envious wannabes. All I say is, handle your business before someone handles it for you. We have to keep them satisfied and they won't cheat,” Christie said, bouncing her butt in our direction again.

“You are really crazy, Christie. We are out of here. We're hungry. Go back to watching your stepkids.”

 

We left and were on the way to our late lunch date. Nichelle must have read my mind. I was thinking about everything Christie had said about making sure I keep Jabril satisfied or someone else will.

“Don't pay Christie any mind. She has issues. What she said is only halfway true. As insane as she is, she knows Omar does not cheat on her. Don't worry. I haven't heard anything about Jabril, either. So you are good, but my husband—that's another story. He's cheated before. That's why we are always going out and taking trips. I try to keep him so busy that he doesn't have the stamina or the time. Zakiya, believe me, you can't play detective. It doesn't work. That's why I just let Lloyd know I'm here, but I don't wrap my life around his. I meet Lloyd on some road games, but the truth is, some of them cheat. We've been together for a long time, and if he is ever ready to go, I will open the door for him and say good-bye. That's why we don't have any children yet, because that would make it harder to work on us. When he retires, we may start trying, but it is hard to raise a child when the father is never home. All I can say is, make yourself happy and you have to remember who you are. That's the key.”

“You're right,” I said, taking it all in.

Nichelle and Christie said a lot, and I tried to file all the information they gave me. I had so much in common with Nichelle and Christie. They knew exactly what I was going through, and because of that I felt an instant connection with them.

This time would be different than the last, because Jabril and I had an unofficial pact. He wasn't going to cheat again, and I would make sure he had no reason to. And if he did, I was going to leave.

I
an's cousin Keldrick was an asshole, but he was right: I couldn't open a club in Miami. It wasn't my city, and I didn't have the capital or enough connections. Instead of opening a club in Miami, I am opening a club in Philly with a Miami feel.

I found a small club in Philly that holds five hundred people. It is perfect, not too small and not too big. It is around the corner from the SugarHouse Casino, tucked away on a small street.

The previous club hadn't been open in a few years. It had been closed down for allowing underage drinking. The club owner wanted to reopen, but he didn't have the money. He was happy to lease it to me for one year. A year is enough time to know if I want to keep going. I'm not getting any investors or going to any bank to get a loan. This is all on me. And the club's success will be all mine, too.

I've decided I want to only attract a certain affluent clientele. So my club will be an all-VIP-exclusive club. I'm going in business to make a profit, so I only need people with an annual income of over a hundred thousand coming to my establishment. I want my club to attract celebrities, powerful businessmen, athletes, singers, rappers, doctors, lawyers, and political figures. The motto of the club will be, “If you are not someone, you have to know someone to get in.” Elitism at its best.

In order for the club to be a success, I must have the best of everything. The best liquor, the prettiest bottle girls, the right atmosphere. I'm placing ads with some modeling agencies, on college campuses, and online. I want my bottle girls to have great shapes and beautiful faces. And I'm getting a mixture of all sizes and colors.

We will be the place where the cool kids party, and I'm going to be one rich bitch.

I
needed to be working somewhere. I'm twenty-three and I never had a real job. I'm not doing any more little hustles for Tone, and no “dating” with Courtney. I did graduate from high school, so I should be able to find something. I know how to speak, but I'm not that good with my writing. I never was. Back in school, I just learned if you were quiet and nice to the teacher, they would pass you. If that didn't work, I would just tell them about my mom being in jail and they would feel sorry for me and give me a good grade.

I know I'm not dumb, but sometimes I don't spell things right. I remember my fourth grade teacher telling me to sound things out, and that usually works, but a lot of words don't sound like they are written. And I don't want to get a job and be spelling things incorrect and get fired.

I walked to the corner store to get a newspaper to look in the job section. There were a lot of jobs, but you had to fill out the applications online.

I want to work in a hospital or downtown somewhere, maybe in an office. I know them kind of jobs pay money. I hear even the cleaning people get money at the hospital. If I was to get a good job like that, I'll have enough money to get my own place.

 

I was sitting at the kitchen table, when Courtney came in the apartment, disturbing my finding-a-job flow. She had three big department store shopping bags. I knew she wasn't out shopping without me.

“Where you get money from?” I asked.

“My friend.”

“Your friend who?”

“This older guy I met. He's married, but he out on disability and got this cleaning company. I tried to get money from him, but he said he only had credit cards. So, I had to get what I could. He was the worst, telling me how his back hurt, but you see, I got him right in the mall. So, you going out with me tonight, right? I'm going to put Ayana to sleep and then I'm out.”

“Probably not. I'm tired.”

“You sure you don't want to go?”

“No, I said I'm tired. Bitch, stop asking me.” She was working my nerves, all happy because she had new stuff from the mall. I didn't have time for her and focused my attention back on my job search.

“So, did you give my mom the rest of the money? I told my mom we was going to give it to her tonight.” I knew she wasn't asking me for my half of the rent when she just got me robbed and was coming in from a shopping trip. I stood up and peeked in her bag. She had a new pair of Louboutin shoes. I held up her one and said, “You could have paid the rent twice with these.”

She snatched her shoe back and said something dumb. “I need those shoes to go out tonight, and I told you he only had credit cards.”

“Well, you could have got him to give you gift cards and we could have sold them.”

“I'll get my money, and you need to get yours. So, why don't you come out with me?”

“No, I'm tired, and I don't have anything new to wear or anyone to take me to the mall.”

“Why you ain't call one of them guys we met the other night, or ask Tone for some more money?”

“I'm done with all of that, and I'm not meeting anyone with you. I don't feel like getting shot at again.”

“Bye, girl, that was a onetime thing. You didn't get shot, did you?”

“Who says next time I won't?” She couldn't answer that question. She went in the room, and I returned to looking for jobs. All of them wanted a résumé. I didn't have one of those. What was I supposed to put on a résumé if I've never had a job? I would have to make something up.

I didn't see anything worthwhile until I reached the
W
section and saw jobs for waitresses. I could be a waitress and give people they food and talk to them. I remember this girl, name Char, we went to school together and she said she made money every day. I saw her in the mall once and I thought she was a stripper because she had all these one dollar bills, but she said she got tips. I searched in the waitress section of the want ads, and there was a job for a Waitress/Bottle Girl for a new night club on Delaware Avenue. The job description read:
Bottle Girls needed. No experience necessary. Requirements: Pretty, Great Body, Hardworking and ready to make $$$. Must be familiar with serving and selling alcohol.

They were having interviews from three to six tomorrow. I needed to be there. What was I going to wear? How would I wear my hair? Somebody had to give me some more money. I dialed Tone, and he answered the phone sounding hype.

“Yooo, what's up?”

“I need a ride tomorrow and I need some money to get my hair done for this job interview.”

“Larry, yeah, you caught me at a bad time. This shit out here is a little light. Hit me up next week and I'll have it by then.”

“Huh? Who you talking to? Who is Larry? The interview is tomorrow. I can't wait until next week.”

“Yeah, Larry, man. Yo, holler at me later. I might be able to help you out.” After the third time he called me Larry, I realized he must have been with his girlfriend and he couldn't talk.

 

The next morning I got up and was trying to figure out how I was going to make myself look like something with nothing. My weave was all tangled and messy. I should have wrapped it before I went to bed. Then my nails were chipped, but somehow I had to get it together. I was going to stand out and they were going to hire me.

Looking down at the time on my phone, I realized I didn't have enough time to get my hair done or throw another weave in. I jumped up out of the bed and started pulling out my tracks and finding something to wear.

“Where are you going?” Courtney asked.

“To this interview at this club to be a bottle girl. All you have to do is just walk around the club and give out the drinks. It said no experience needed, just be cute and ready to work hard and make money. You should go with me.”

“Um, no, that don't sound like something I would want to do. I like popping bottles, not serving them. You going without getting your hair done?”

“I was going to try to go run and get a wig and a refill on my nails. I have to figure out a way. I'm not really trying to spend my last.”

“Um, you look a mess, but good luck.”

 

I left out the room and down the hall. Aunt Rhonda was sitting on the sofa. It was going to be hard to get out of the house without her asking me for some money. Ayana was sitting in the living room playing with her puzzles.

“Ayana, go in the room with your mom.” Ayana followed her grandmother's command, but on the way down the hall, she asked me to take her to the store. I dug in my bag and gave her two dollars. I shouldn't have pulled out any money because Aunt Rhonda was counting what was left in my hand.

“Leave Shanice alone. Shani, I need a beer. Let me get three dollars.”

“I don't have it.”

“Yes, you do. Come on, help me out.” I pulled out ten dollars and handed it to Aunt Rhonda. It was funny how she always nickeled and dimed me, but never asked her daughter for anything. She was one of the other reasons I needed to move out.

 

I left out the apartment and began walking to the subway. I had to walk to the sub and then get on the El. There were guys all on Girard Avenue, standing around saying ignorant stuff as I walked past. I learned to ignore them since I was young. If you say thank you, then they would take it a step further, and I didn't need any drama.

My phone started ringing right as I was walking down the subway steps. I thought it was Courtney, saying that she changed her mind, but Courtney's voice wasn't that deep.

“Who this?”

“It's Tone, yo, I got some money, I can help you. I'll be there in a few, and I'll drive you where you need to go.”

“Naw, you was fronting real hard last night.”

“I had to do that for my chick. I was at her house last night. Where you at?”

I did need a ride and money, and Tone could supply me with both. I told him to meet me in front of the KFC.

 

He pulled right up to the curb in his navy blue F-150. His engine was souped up and making a lot of noise. I got in and started giving it to him.

“I'm still mad that you was calling me Larry last night. Talking dirty to me for your chick. I don't play that shit.”

“Be quiet, Shani. If you was doing what you was supposed to do, I wouldn't have to mess with nobody else.”

“Whatever.”

“So, where do you need to go?” he asked, eyeing my curves.

“Stop looking at me like that. I have to get ready for this interview. I need to get a wig and my nails done real quick.”

“How much you need?”

“Enough to buy both.” He handed me four hundred dollars, which was love. I only needed like a hundred. I was going to use some of that on my nails and wig, and the rest would land in Aunt Rhonda's hand so she would leave me alone.

We stopped at the Sophie Beauty Hair Store. There were wigs on mannequins with blank expressions in every direction and a variety of colors. I touched a wig I liked. It was cute, but too basic. The girl who worked there asked me if I needed help. I told her I did, but I would need a little bit more time. I just wanted to get something that was long and sexy, but sophisticated, also. I looked up and down at the rows of wigs, and when I found the perfect wig with a straight bang, I asked the salesgirl to grab it. She told me that I had to buy a stocking cap to try it on.

I purchased the cap and had a seat as she fitted and styled the wig on me. It was pretty on me, even though it wasn't the best, but it would have to do.

After getting my wig, I got my nails done and my eyebrows arched and then got Tone to take me downtown.

The club was in a warehouse building on a small block down the street from the casino. I rang the bell and knocked on the door. No one answered, and then a handyman was walking out and I walked in. The club was in the process of being renovated, and there were workers all around hammering and power-drilling things together. There were a few people walking around the club. Looking around, I talked to the first person I saw.

“Hi, I'm here for the bottle girl position.”

“You have to talk to the woman over there.” He pointed to a pretty woman with curly hair pulled back into a bun. She had golden yellow skin and appeared to be about twenty-five or so. She looked over and told me to have a seat, fill out an application, and someone would interview me. There were a few people ahead of me. One was pretty with dark chocolate skin; she was wearing a navy suit and black business pumps. Looking at her, I wasn't sure if my jeans and shirt were dressy enough.

“Excuse me, are you supposed to be dressed up?”

“No, you don't have to, but I was coming from another interview and I came straight here so I didn't change. Don't worry. You look nice enough for this job.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.” She was real professional and seemed like she might work at a bank or something. We started talking. She was from New York and her name was Darcel. She was in school at Temple University. She said she was looking for a job because her scholarship money was short. She was a college girl, but I liked her. She was confident but not cocky.

Me and the girl Darcel talked some more until it was her time to interview. Even though the club was still being fixed up, I could see myself working there. I hoped I got the job.

Darcel came out of her interview and told me she got it and good luck. They called me into the interviewing area. I stood up, walked over, and smiled. It was the woman from earlier and a guy with dreads. He looked kind of mean. I asked them how they were doing and told them it was nice to meet them. The woman asked if I had any experience.

“Yeah, at this place around my neighborhood called Limelight. It's like a neighborhood place that everybody goes to,” I lied.

“So, you've served drinks before?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes, I have.” I was getting nervous. They both were staring at me. I just stood there, waiting for them to ask me the next question and trying not to mess up. The woman looked down at a yellow notepad and then she said, “This is a copy of your drink menu. Your job will be to service our guests and get them to enjoy themselves, but spend money in the process. If someone orders tequila and if they don't ask for a specific brand, you have to be ready to convince them to buy the most expensive bottle of Patrón. Do you think you could do that?”

“Yes, if you hire me, I can do that. Definitely. Like, I'm real good at talking to people and meeting people and when I smile at a dude, it's a wrap.” The man stepped away to answer a call.

The woman laughed a little, and then continued, “Okay, that's good to know. You seem outgoing, but what's going on with your hair? Is that a wig?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I don't like it, it looks cheap. You are cute, but you need to get your hair done.”

“To be honest, I didn't have time to get my hair done and put my lashes on. I look a lot better when I'm dressed,” I answered, feeling insecure.

“Yeah, and that earring in your eyebrow has to go, too.”

I reached up and took it out. “No problem, I just really need this job, and I promise if you hire me, I will sell and keep your customers coming back. I'm going to make them buy bottles, trust me.”

“So if you want the job it is yours, if you get your hair done. We want stylish, pretty girls in our VIP, none of those bright-ass color weaves. The whole entire club is VIP. Nothing about my club is ghetto.”