“Look, Luther—”
It was the man’s turn to look confused. “Hey, how do you know my name?”
Twyla turned up her nose again. “It’s plastered across your teeth.”
The man touched his mouth and laughed. “Oh yeah, right, right.”
Rachel leaned in to look at his grill, which he proudly displayed.
“Yep, it says Luther right across the front.” Rachel tried not to crack a smile. “Bet that set you back a pretty penny.”
“Sho’ did,” he said. “But it ain’t nothing but a thang. I got money to burn, baby.” He turned toward Twyla and licked his lips. “And I sho’ would like to set you on fire with some of it.”
Rachel was just about to comment when she noticed the leggy girl with the blonde braids standing behind Luther.
“I know you ain’t up in this club all over some other skank!”
Luther spun around. “Michel’le!” He looked like he had the fear of God in him. “I…I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I bet you did,” the woman said, pushing him out of the way. “Who is this tramp?” she asked, pointing at Twyla. She didn’t give Twyla time to answer as she stepped toward her. “I know you not trying to step to my man. ’Cause I will cut your bourgeois behind like my name is Jack the Ripper.”
Twyla looked terrified. Luther grabbed Michel’le by the arm. “Come on, baby. It ain’t even like that.”
“Then what it’s like, Luther, huh, fool?” She snatched her arm away. “I saw you all up in her face!”
Luther tried to rub her braids. “Babe, chill. She was telling me she got some Louis Vuittons for sale in her car and was asking me did I want some. You know it’s loud in here, that’s why I was leaning up on her. I was trying to figure out which one I wanted to get you.”
Michel’le looked at him like she was trying to decide if he was telling the truth. “For real, Luther? You bet’ not be lying to me.”
He stepped in and put his arms around her waist. “Girl, you know I ain’t lying to you. Come to think of it, I don’t even want to buy my baby no knockoffs. I’m gon’ take you to the Galleria tomorrow and get you the real thing.”
Michel’le squealed in delight. Luther turned to Twyla, his arm draped around Michel’le’s neck. “Sorry, but I’m gon’ have to pass on the bags. My baby deserves the real thang.” Michel’le planted a kiss on Luther’s cheek as they strutted off into the corner.
“If that isn’t enough to convince you it’s time to go, I don’t know what is,” Twyla said, turning to Rachel. “So, please can we get out of here?”
Rachel looked around the club. Besides that little entertaining episode, she really wasn’t having a good time. She used to keep the clubs hot in her younger days. But now she felt totally out of her element. She looked at her watch. It was almost midnight. Lester should be home by now; he was probably wondering where she was. She’d intended to stay out till two or three and really make him mad, but she felt her body wearing down.
“All right. Fine. Let’s go.” Rachel opened her purse, pulled out two twenties, and slid them toward the bartender. “Here, this is for our tab. Keep the change.”
Rachel caught up with Twyla, who had already walked to the other side of the dance floor. “Would you wait up?”
“I am ready to go now ,” Twyla repeated.
Rachel grabbed Twyla’s arm and turned her toward the dance floor. “Look. Is that who I think it is?”
Twyla peered at the dance floor. “Bobby?” She looked at Rachel suspiciously. “You knew he was going to be here, didn’t you?”
“I swear I didn’t.” Rachel quickly pulled out a mirror and checked her makeup. No, she didn’t want Bobby anymore, but she still wanted to look good whenever he saw her. “I’ll be right back.”
Rachel ignored Twyla’s protests as she strutted over to the dance floor. Bobby was dancing with some woman who looked old enough to be his mother. Rachel pretended she didn’t see
It was the man’s turn to look confused. “Hey, how do you know my name?”
Twyla turned up her nose again. “It’s plastered across your teeth.”
The man touched his mouth and laughed. “Oh yeah, right, right.”
Rachel leaned in to look at his grill, which he proudly displayed.
“Yep, it says Luther right across the front.” Rachel tried not to crack a smile. “Bet that set you back a pretty penny.”
“Sho’ did,” he said. “But it ain’t nothing but a thang. I got money to burn, baby.” He turned toward Twyla and licked his lips. “And I sho’ would like to set you on fire with some of it.”
Rachel was just about to comment when she noticed the leggy girl with the blonde braids standing behind Luther.
“I know you ain’t up in this club all over some other skank!”
Luther spun around. “Michel’le!” He looked like he had the fear of God in him. “I…I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I bet you did,” the woman said, pushing him out of the way. “Who is this tramp?” she asked, pointing at Twyla. She didn’t give Twyla time to answer as she stepped toward her. “I know you not trying to step to my man. ’Cause I will cut your bourgeois behind like my name is Jack the Ripper.”
Twyla looked terrified. Luther grabbed Michel’le by the arm. “Come on, baby. It ain’t even like that.”
“Then what it’s like, Luther, huh, fool?” She snatched her arm away. “I saw you all up in her face!”
Luther tried to rub her braids. “Babe, chill. She was telling me she got some Louis Vuittons for sale in her car and was asking me did I want some. You know it’s loud in here, that’s why I was leaning up on her. I was trying to figure out which one I wanted to get you.”
Michel’le looked at him like she was trying to decide if he was telling the truth. “For real, Luther? You bet’ not be lying to me.”
He stepped in and put his arms around her waist. “Girl, you know I ain’t lying to you. Come to think of it, I don’t even want to buy my baby no knockoffs. I’m gon’ take you to the Galleria tomorrow and get you the real thing.”
Michel’le squealed in delight. Luther turned to Twyla, his arm draped around Michel’le’s neck. “Sorry, but I’m gon’ have to pass on the bags. My baby deserves the real thang.” Michel’le planted a kiss on Luther’s cheek as they strutted off into the corner.
“If that isn’t enough to convince you it’s time to go, I don’t know what is,” Twyla said, turning to Rachel. “So, please can we get out of here?”
Rachel looked around the club. Besides that little entertaining episode, she really wasn’t having a good time. She used to keep the clubs hot in her younger days. But now she felt totally out of her element. She looked at her watch. It was almost midnight. Lester should be home by now; he was probably wondering where she was. She’d intended to stay out till two or three and really make him mad, but she felt her body wearing down.
“All right. Fine. Let’s go.” Rachel opened her purse, pulled out two twenties, and slid them toward the bartender. “Here, this is for our tab. Keep the change.”
Rachel caught up with Twyla, who had already walked to the other side of the dance floor. “Would you wait up?”
“I am ready to go now ,” Twyla repeated.
Rachel grabbed Twyla’s arm and turned her toward the dance floor. “Look. Is that who I think it is?”
Twyla peered at the dance floor. “Bobby?” She looked at Rachel suspiciously. “You knew he was going to be here, didn’t you?”
“I swear I didn’t.” Rachel quickly pulled out a mirror and checked her makeup. No, she didn’t want Bobby anymore, but she still wanted to look good whenever he saw her. “I’ll be right back.”
Rachel ignored Twyla’s protests as she strutted over to the dance floor. Bobby was dancing with some woman who looked old enough to be his mother. Rachel pretended she didn’t see
Similar Books
