Authors: Tiffany L. Warren
~5~
Dionne
I am supposed to be at lunch with my sisters, but instead, I’m dressed in all black, with my best friend Hailey, staking out the strip club where my husband’s new mistress
, I mean artist, works. We’re across the street, in a rental car, watching with a pair of military grade binoculars.
We drove all the way to Birmingham to stalk this home
wrecker. There are two things in life I don't share - my man and my money. And since, at the present my
money
is connected to my
man,
this chick doesn't stand a chance of escaping my wrath.
“
Who works at a place called Booty Meat? It just sounds more degrading than what they’re actually doing,” Hailey fusses. Her long blonde lace front wig is pulled up into a high ponytail, making her look like sumo wrestler Barbie.
“
What could be more degrading than shaking your behind in a g-string for a wad of balled up dollar bills?” I ask, as I scope out a Lexus truck with personalized plates that say
Peach
.
Hailey laughs.
“Shaking your behind in a g-string and
not
getting paid.”
I wish I could share Hailey’s humor, but I’m mission minded. I need to see what I'm up against in this new potential home
wrecker.
“
Why did we need to rent a car?” Hailey asks.
I shake my head.
“You know why! We always use rental cars when we do drive-bys.”
“
Right. On our husbands. But this chick doesn't know what either one of our cars look like. Why do I have to be in this cramped Nissan, when we could be in my Range Rover?”
“
Don't the paparazzi know what your car looks like?” I ask.
“
Yeah, but why would they be here?”
I want to pop Hailey in her head sometimes, she's so dense.
“This rump shaker just signed onto Knight Time Records. She's a paparazzi magnet. Plus, since she's new to the game, she'll give them all the footage they want. So...we stay incognegro.”
“
But I'm white.”
I laugh out loud.
“Only on the outside, honey.”
Hailey beams proudly, like I just gave her the best compliment anyone could've ever given her.
“Oh, wait! Is that
her
?”
I hold the binoculars up to my eyes.
“I think so. I’m not sure what her face looks like, but that silicone injected booty looks just like it did on the World Wide Web.”
Peach struts to her Lexus SUV in a pair of coochie-cutting leggings and a tiny baby tee-shirt - standard exotic dancer apparel. She's also wearing some dangerous stilettos with
red bottoms. Oh, no this heffa is not wearing Louboutins up at this tacky spot. And driving a Lexus? Who knew stripping was this profitable?
“
Do you see her shoes?” Hailey asks.
“
Yeah. They're probably knock offs.”
A little voice in the back of my mind is telling me that
maybe my husband purchased those shoes. But I tend to ignore that little voice when it's talking crap!
I suck my teeth when Peach drops her keys and then bends over to pick them up. Her behind spreads from here to infinity. That booty doesn't even look like it belongs on a human. That's an alien booty. An alien stripper booty.
Ugh!
“
So what are we gonna do?” Hailey asks as Peach pulls out of the parking lot.
I throw the car into drive.
“Follow her. What do you think?”
Peach takes 65 South for a
few miles and then hops off the freeway. We can barely keep up with all the twists and turns she does through the country roads. Plus, she’s driving at breakneck speed like she’s late for a rendezvous.
See, that’s what happens when my mind starts playing tricks on me. This chick could just have a lead foot, and I’ve got her on the way to a
date – with my husband. Trueblackgossip.com has got my imagination running wild.
“
Turn right!” Hailey blurts. “She just turned right.”
I jackknife the Nissan Altima into a ninety degree angle right turn. Suddenly, we’re at the entrance to a gated town house community. I watch as the Lexus SUV rolls over the speed bumps and through the gate.
“What are we going to do now?” My heart sinks as I ask this rhetorical question. I don’t really expect Hailey to have a plan.
Hailey replies.
“Just drive. I got this.”
“
You got what?”
I turn to look at Hailey and my eyes widen with shock. She’s unbuttoning the top of her blouse.
“What are you going to do? Strip for the guard?”
“
Not strip, but I will flash him if I have to. We’re famous wives of celebrities, honey. We can do this.”
“
I don’t know…”
Hailey narrows her eyes at me.
“I did not spend my spa day afternoon camped outside of someplace called Booty Meat for us to just drive back to Atlanta without answers. Now drive the car, Dionne!”
Since I can’t think of a better plan than Hailey’s crackpot scheme, I drive up to the guard shack. The guard is…a woman. Rats.
I roll down the window and Hailey leans over to speak. “I’m Hailey Claiborne and my husband is NFL star Rory Claiborne. Do you know who he is?”
The hard looking sista nods once. She looks like the type of woman who might enjoy Hailey’s flash show, but I refuse to make eye contact. I don’t want her to remember my face.
“Well,” Hailey continues, “his aunt lives here and he asked me to check in on her.”
“
Name? Unit number?”
Hailey pauses. I guess she hasn’t thought this far ahead in the plan.
Hailey lets out a big sigh. “Okay. Here’s the deal. My husband is a cheater, and he’s holed up here with some silicone-injected stripper.”
She pulls out a camera that I didn’t know she’d brought.
“I just need to get proof,” Hailey continues, “so that when I get a divorce my children and I will be okay. Dirty bastard made me sign a prenup.”
The guard gives the tearful Hailey a sympathetic look.
“Do you know the name of the…stripper?”
“
I don’t know her real name. Only her stripper name. She’s called Peach or Nectarine or something stupid like that.”
The guard’s eyebrows went up.
“Well, ma’am, I’m so sorry about your cheating husband, but I can’t allow you to just come into our community.”
“
I understand,” Hailey replies. “I guess we just have to leave then.”
“
Right. I can’t just let you in. But…if one of our residents happens to drive up…a person might be able to drive in while the gate is still open.”
Hailey beams at the homely security guard.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
I back away from the gate and pull over to the side, where we can wait for the next legitimate resident to return home.
“A stripper driving a Lexus, wearing Louboutins and living in an exclusive gated community? What’s really going on?” I ask.
Hailey replies.
“Trust me, it seems glam on the outside, but any of those girls would kill to have what you and I have.”
“
What? Cheating husbands?”
“
No. Husbands period.”
Finally, another car pulls through the gate. We follow behind, almost bumper to bumper.
“Which way did Peach go?” I ask.
“
She made a left as soon as she turned in. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find her easily. We know what her car looks like.”
After driving through the maze of streets several times, I feel like I’m going in circles.
“We’re never gonna find her spot. This was not a good plan.”
Hailey squeals.
“Look! At the top of that hill! Isn’t that Rod’s red lambo?”
My heart stops. I literally feel the muscle that lives in the center of my chest as it stops functioning. The blood drains from my face as horror moves about my insides and takes up shop.
“Are you going to drive up there?” Hailey asks.
“
I…uh…um…”
“
Are you okay?” Hailey asks.
Her voice sounds distant as I struggle to hear and formulate words.
“Dionne! Are we going to bust Rod and this hoochie or not?”
Suddenly my heart begins to pump again. The oxygen flows to my major organs, and all vital life functions recommence.
“We are going to bust them. Yes. We. Are.”
I floor the gas pedal and the tires squeal as we
fly up the hill toward the unmistakable gleam of Rod’s custom manufactured Lamborghini. No one in the world has that particular shade of red with undertones of orange and brown. It’s not exactly fire engine red, but a warmer version that reminds me of blood.
It’s appropriate too, because Rod is nothing but a bloodsucking vampire. He’s sapped all the life out of me. So much so that I can’t even conceive a baby – the one thing that will save me from Rod and his cheating ways.
Here is Rod’s car parked right next to the silver Lexus truck. We’ve definitely found the right townhouse, but there’s no sign of Rod or Peach anywhere.
“
Park in that driveway over there,” Hailey says. “It’s for sale.”
I slowly back into the driveway until I’m right in front of the garage.
“We’re going to have to get out, and go look into a window or something.”
“
Get out?” Hailey asks. “I thought we were doing this from
inside
the car. You didn’t say anything about getting out.”
“
There’s no one outside. I need more proof before I can say that Rod is cheating for sure.”
“
What more proof do you need? His car is here, parked at the hooker’s townhouse. Isn’t that enough?”
I shake my head.
“No. It’s not enough. She’s his artist, so he can explain being here. I need to know for sure if he’s cheating.”
“
Okay…say you get your evidence. Then what are you going to do? It’s not like you’re going to leave him.”
I ignore Hailey’s question and get out of the car. It doesn’t matter that I’m not sure what I’ll do. But not knowing the truth isn’t an option. I’ve heard rumor after rumor that Rod has been able to explain away with slick talk, but I’ve never been able to catch him red handed. That’s what today is about.
I almost wish I’d asked my baby sister Sydney to do this with me instead of Hailey, especially if I find out something that will tear me up on the inside. Hailey’s not the type of person you bawl your eyes out to.
As I march down the gravel drive
way wearing heels (not the best shoe choice for stalking) I contemplate my next steps. If I find out that Rod is here doing music, then everything is cool. I won’t trip. But if not…
“
Haven’t they ever heard of asphalt in Alabama?” Hailey hisses as she struggles to catch up with me, in her strappy sling back sandals.
I survey the front yard from across the street. Zero activity, so they must either be indoors or in the back.
“Come on, Hailey. Let’s do this.”
We cross the street as stealthily as two divas in heels can, and take off running for the side of the house where the shadows provide some cover. It’s hot as
hell fire out here, so just a little shelter from the sun helps.
“
Remind me to send my personal assistant with you on the next one of your missions,” Hailey says as she picks a pebble from between her toes.
I hold up one finger to my lips to shush Hailey. I hear Rod’s voice and my heart sinks. He’s laughing. It’s a joyful laugh that I recognize, but haven’t heard in a long, long, time.
“Is that Rod?” Hailey whispers.
I nod slowly.
“I think it’s coming from outside. The back of the house maybe.”
We follow the wall to the rear of the house to a solid oak patio and deck. I push Hailey back some, so that we’re not seen. Then, I point to some low bushes where we can observe safely.
On our hands and knees, we crawl over to the bushes, to spy on the trollop and my husband.
Rod’s laughter rings out again.
“That’s daddy’s baby!” he says.
“
He’s got that trick calling him daddy?” Hailey asks in an irritated whisper.
I can’t reply, because
I’ve covered my mouth with my hand to stifle a scream.
Daddy’s baby
is not the tramp. It’s a little girl of about three years, showing off with a purple hula hoop. When the toy finally falls to the ground, the little girl bursts into tears. I sit and watch, in abject horror, as my husband scoops the little girl into his arms and rocks her back and forth.