Scandalous (2 page)

I'd never seen anyone with skin as dark as his with sparkling green eyes.

The Ohio Players sang,
“
When you push, push
…
.
”
and Mr. Chocolate dropped his pants.

It was official: I was in love.

He came to the edge of the stage, right above where I was sitting, and he gave me a wonderful view of his complete magnificence.
Daannnggg!
I knew this man had to be mine
--

But then I coughed and reeled back that thought. Yes, I was absolutely used to getting any man I wanted.
But no, I couldn't do that anymore.

I was getting married in two days.

In forty-eight hours, I would have a husband I was supposed to love, honor and obey.
That meant that I had to give up all of this extra-curricular sextivity.
Right?

Right! I repeated to myself.
Right!
Right!
Right!

I kept up that mantra as Mr. Chocolate grinded.
I kept up that mantra as Mr. Chocolate bucked.
I kept up that mantra until Mr. Chocolate danced right off the stage.

***

I couldn't even move.
Not for a couple of minutes.
I had to wait, to get myself together and get my mind right before I was able to stand up.

Just ten minutes before, I'd been thinking that this was the worst bachelorette party ever.
But those six blessed minutes that Mr. Chocolate had given me made it worth the whole night.

I grabbed my sweater and just tossed it over my shoulders.
It wasn't that I needed it.
Not only had it been one of those dog-hot August days, but Mr. Chocolate had warmed me up so much I was about to start taking off some clothes myself.

Around me, the girls were still cackling and giggling, comparing how many dollar bills they had left.
I hoped I was going to be able to sneak away without having to go through a bunch of goodbyes and well wishes from these heifers who would be lying through their teeth if they said anything nice to me.
Not one of Kyla's friends liked me.
Because of their husbands and boyfriends, of course.

Not that I cared what these females thought, but them not liking me wasn't really my fault.
I couldn't help the fact that I was a man-magnet wherever I went, even if it was just to a party at Kyla and Jefferson's house.
Whenever I was around, their men were always all up in my Kool-Aid.
But like I said, not my fault.
That drama belonged to them.

I decided that I could walk right out of the club without having to say anything.
But just as I turned away from the table, Kyla yelled out,
“
Jasmine!
”

Dang!
My hope had been to jet on out of here with just visions of Mr. Chocolate on my mind.
I couldn't turn away from my best friend, though, so I did a little pirouette on my tippy-toes and faced Kyla with a smile.

She was still grinning as she stepped to me.
I'm telling you, she had never seen anything like this show before.

“
I hope you enjoyed your party,
”
she gushed as she hugged me.

“
I did, girl.
”

“
You know I wanted to give you something bigger but
…
.
”

I held up my hand.
“
This was enough.
”

It was true that Kyla had wanted to plan some elaborate affair for me because that was just who she was.
But really, who was gonna come?
It had already been proven that I didn't have many
…
okay, I didn't have
any
female friends.
Kyla had sent out fifty invitations for my bridal shower and only she and Alexis had shown up.
And I would've bet that she'd paid Alexis to be there, which was a waste of money because I wanted to pay Alexis to leave.

So I didn't want Kyla to go through the trouble of a no-show bachelorette party.
But Kyla, being Kyla, had to do something, and she had come up with the perfect way to get her friends to attend.
Naked men always attract
desperate women.

I really loved my friend who would do anything for me.
Few understood our friendship: the good girl and her morally-corrupt sidekick.
The thing was, though, Kyla and I had a history. It
ha
d
beg
u
n when I had to beat-down some little boy for picking on the new girl in our kindergarten class; she'd been grateful that day, and our friendship had blossomed from there.
Even though she was the privileged child of Lynn and Winston Carrington, Kyla treated me so much like a sister that her parents began to treat me like their daughter.
But though their intentions were always good, I was always aware that I was a Cox, not a Carrington.
There was nothing white about my parents’ blue-collar jobs.
Our house was barely one thousand square feet and couldn't compare to the expansive three-bedroom home where she'd grown up.
The only thing I ever had over Kyla was my social abilities: I had boyfriends.
Not that the boys didn't want her
--
by the time we hit fifth grade, it killed me the way the boys constantly drooled over her.

The thing was, Kyla wasn't giving up anything. I, on the other hand, had no problem with giving it and getting it. Some girls called me a slut, others said I was a ho.
But whatever the name, I was the most popular girl in high school.
I was so popular that I'd snagged our school's star jock, Kenneth Larson.
Not only had I snagged him, but Kenny and I had gone to USC together, where I had to fight hard to keep him.
But I did.
And he had put that ring on my finger.

The star jock part
--
where he was supposed to be drafted into the NFL
--
didn't quite work out after he was injured in his first
b
owl game.
But he was still Kenny Larson, the ex-USC football superstar.
And he was still going to be my husband.

“
I hope you're not getting ready to leave,
”
Kyla said, tugging me away from my thoughts.
“
I have one final surprise for you.
”

I guess my plans to sneak out and just call Kyla later were now derailed.
In my mind, I was already preparing the lie for whatever plans she had, the reason why I couldn't go out to dinner with them, or go somewhere for a drink with them, or whatever it was that Kyla wanted to do.

“
You know what?
”
I began my lie,
“
I've got to get over to my dad's because
--
”

Kyla spoke over me.
“
But I've arranged for us to meet the dancers.
”

I zipped my mouth shut for a moment to make sure that I'd heard her right.
“
What did you say?
”

She grinned and nodded.
“
Surprise!
”
she said in her kooky kind of way.
“
You know, since you wouldn't let me do anything really special for your bachelorette party, I thought this would be just a little extra nice surprise.
Just for us to get together for a little while.
”

“
So, the dancers are gonna come out here now?
”
I asked so that I could get clarification.

She nodded like a bobble-head.

“
They let you meet the dancers here?
”
I asked, really surprised.

“
Yeah.
”
She frowned.
“
You say that like it's strange or something.
”

“
It is.
In these kinds of places, the dancers are not supposed to fraternize with the customers. At least, not in a chatting, getting-to-know-you kind of way.
”

“
As if you're an expert on strip clubs.
”
Kyla laughed.

I did not laugh with her.

After she giggled for a few more moments, she waved her hand and said,
“
Please.
I am Doctor Jefferson Blake's wife.
”

I grinned.
“
Oh, so Jefferson is an expert on strip clubs.
”

“
No, but the owner is a patient of his.
So, I got the hook-up.
They arranged this little get
-
together.
It's not gonna be that long or elaborate.
But the guys are gonna come out and say hello.
”
Her smile faded and she pouted a little in the way that only Kyla Blake could.
“
So please stay.
Just for a little while.
Please?
”

I slipped that sweater right off my shoulders.
She didn't have to beg me twice.
“
Okay.
”
I let the word drag out of me.
“
I'll stay,
”
I said as if it was going to be a chore and not a pleasure.

“
Great,
”
Kyla said, right before one of the girls who'd come to my party
--
I couldn't even remember her name
--
called Kyla back over to the table.

As she turned back to her friends, I headed toward the bar.
So I was gonna get a chance to meet Mr. Chocolate personally?
Oh, yeah.

I edged up to the bar, glad that there was no one standing there.
I knew how to work this thing.
I wanted to be all alone when Mr. Chocolate moseyed into the main part of the club.
Even though I always stood out, I wanted him to see me far away from the other
silly
women.
 

Oh, yeah.

“
I'll have a ginger ale,
”
I told the bartender. I'd already had one glass of win
e.
T
hat was enough.
I wanted a clear head, for lots of reasons.

The lights began to brighten
in the club.
Not too much, but enough for me to take a good glance around
.

Clearly, this was more of a club than a strip joint.
Where I worked, at Foxtails, it was all about the stage and the girls.
Nothing else
--
except for the bar
--
mattered.

But here, the emphasis seemed to be on the club itself.
There were cloths covering the tables, pictures hanging on the walls, and fresh flowers all around.
Flowers in a place where men took off their clothes?
I guess here, because they were catering to women, the atmosphere mattered as much as the dancers.

I took a sip of my ginger ale and turned around.
Most of the women had left; I guess it was just going to be our group who would have the pleasure of mixing with the strippers.

Kyla and the rest of the girls were still giggling and cackling, even though there was not yet a dancer in sight.
 

Silly women.

But then, he came out.
Mr. Chocolate.
He was the first one.

The women clapped as he stepped into their midst, but with just a smile and a nod, he made his way away from where Kyla and her friends stood and came toward the bar.
It was as if he was looking for me!

Behind him, the other dancers came out and kept the women's attention away from Mr. Chocolate.
So for at least a moment, I was gonna bask in the presence of perfection all by myself.

He didn't even look my way as he leaned against the mahogany bar and said,
“
Doug, get me a hit.
”

A hit?
What was that?
Whatever it was, I wanted to be the one to give it to him.

One of the things that made me so good at being a stripper was that I always played it cool.
I kept my feelings to myself
--
something I'd been doing for the last few years, ever since my mother passed away.
After going through her death, there was no one and nothing that could get to me.