That afternoon, Lamar Harris and his band were performing there. While the band played their rendition of The Roots’ “Rising Up,” Dylan and her girls enjoyed their afternoon lunch, which consisted of cosmopolitans and Cobb salads.
“So, what’s the T, ladies?” Tee-Tee unfolded his napkin and placed it into his lap.
“Shit,” Billie said, taking a bite of her food.
“Oh my God, did you see those new gold Christian Louboutin robot ankle boots?” Dylan shrieked.
“Yes, girl! Those muthafuckas are fierce.” Tee-Tee snapped his fingers.
“You know I’m on them, right?” Dylan confirmed.
“How much are they?” Billie asked.
“Twelve hundred ninety-five.”
“Now, you know you don’t need to be spending that kind of money right now.”
“Fuck that. I will be the first person to rock those bad boys.”
“Sorry to burst yo’ bubble, but I saw Kim Kardashian in them last night at Home,” Tee-Tee said. Home was a very popular club in St. Louis that celebrities frequented.
“Ain’t that about a bitch,” Dylan said with a pout. “Speaking of Kim K, did you hear that she and Reggie Bush broke up?”
“Yep.” Tee-Tee smirked. “And please believe I’ma be on the first flight to New Orleans this afternoon, ’cause that bitch ass ain’t got nothing on mine.” He stood up and smacked his backside.
“You two are ridiculous.” Billie scrunched up her face. “There is far more going on in the world besides the crap y’all talk about.”
“We can’t help that our lives revolve around fashion, celebrities, and boys,” Dylan defended herself.
“Don’t forget Suri Cruise,” Tee-Tee jumped in.
“See what I mean? Ridiculousness.” Billie rolled her eyes.
“I do have something else I wanna talk about,” Dylan said.
“Please don’t tell me Paula Abdul is back on
American Idol
. I swear I wouldn’t be able to take it,” Tee-Tee pleaded.
“No, silly. Um . . .” She inhaled deeply. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was absolutely sure that it was real this time, but . . . I’m back wit’ State ... but this time it’s different,” she stressed.
“Booyah! I told yo’ ass!” Tee-Tee raised his arm and thrust his finger in Billie’s face.
Billie didn’t even bother to respond. Instead, she sat back and shook her head.
“What?” Dylan cocked her head to the side.
“Nothing.” Billie waved her off. “That’s all on you. You’re a grown-ass woman. You can do whatever you wanna do.”
“I know I can do whatever I wanna do, but I still felt as if y’all should know.”
“Why? What we think don’t matter anyway.” Billie uncrossed then crossed her legs again.
“Yes, it does. Look . . .” Dylan sat upright. “Things between us are different this time.” She tried to convince herself.
“And how is that?”
“I mean, they just are.” Dylan shrugged.
“If it’s so right this time, then why have you been sneaking around behind our backs?” Billie countered.
“Why you so negative?” Dylan replied because she had no answer.
“I’m far from negative. I just see the reality of the situation. You stupid and State’s a liar, so I guess y’all belong together. All I got to say is when he play yo’ ass again, and oh, he is going to play you, don’t come cryin’ to me.”
“I won’t, but let’s not forget how we warned you about Cain’s trifling, cheating ass, but you upped and married the niggah anyway and had three kids by his lousy, I-wanna-leaveyou-for-a-VH1-
Rock of Love
, Kim-wig-wearing, I-wanna-singsounding-like-Billy-Bob-Thornton-bitch ass, so don’t call the kettle black, POT!”
“Ooooooooooooh, no she didn’t,” Tee-Tee instigated. “You gon’ sit there and take that?” He looked at Billie.
“First of all, you need to shut up,” she advised, then turned her attention to Dylan. “I know you ain’t tryin’ to compare my eleven-year marriage to your on again/fuck again/off again so-called relationship.” She raised her hands and imitated air quotes. “Do you even know what that niggah look like in the daytime?”
“All right now, that’s hittin’ below the belt.” Tee-Tee stepped in as people began to look.
“Bitch, you shouldn’t even wanna see that tore-down-ass niggah of yours in the day. The moonlight shouldn’t even hit his ass,” Dylan shot back.
“Ugly and all, I ain’t never had to go get no script. Let’s see . . . what was yours for again?” Billie placed her index finger to her chin and thought. “Chlamydia or gonorrhea?”
“Bitch, it was a simple bacterial infection, and you ain’t have to go there,” Dylan spat, angry as hell as she threw down her napkin. “Gon’ sit up there and say he ain’t never gave you nothing. Hell, we don’t know if he gave you something or not. You coulda been keepin’ that on the hush-hush like you did everything else. One minute you happy, and the next you gettin’ a goddamn divorce!”
“Haaaaaaaaaaah!” Tee-Tee screamed, placing his hand on his chest, cracking up laughing. “Now it’s a party!”
“That’s really how you feel?” Billie replied, crushed.
“Yo’ jealous ass the one who started it,” Dylan countered.
“Well, I’m finishing it,” Tee-Tee chimed in. “Now, both y’all need to stop before somebody start cryin’ or bleedin’.”
“Fuck her. I’m outta here.” Dylan scooted back and got up out of her chair and left.
“Shit, fuck her too.” Billie followed suit and walked out of the restaurant, heated.
“Oh, heeeeeeeeell no! I know these bitches didn’t stick me wit’ the goddamn bill. They got me fucked up,” Tee-Tee said out loud to himself, pissed as he reached inside his purse for a hundred-dollar bill. “I will hurt both of they feelings and kick they asses at the same time, retarded bitches.” He placed the money on the table, stood up, and spotted a cutie coming his way. “How
you
doing?” Tee-Tee reached out his hand for a shake. “My name is Tee-Tee. Dick’em Down Diva, if ya nasty.”
“I’m ready to roll . . . Girl, I’m with you.”
Chapter 6
The one place Dylan could find solace when she was upset or feeling down was one of her favorite boutiques, Giselle. Being around gorgeous, one-of-a-kind designer dresses, shoes, and handbags always brightened her day. For the first time in a long while, she needed that comfort. She and Billie had argued before, but never the way they did back at the restaurant. There was always a line they never crossed with one another, but that day the line became invisible.
Things were revealed that neither knew the other felt. Dylan never knew that her best friend viewed her as stupid. She’d been called a lot of things in life, but never stupid. A part of her wondered if Billie was jealous. She and Cain had been separated for several months, and she hadn’t even attempted to move on. It was like she was bitter and mad at the world. Cain’s infidelity had become every man’s mistake. Dylan knew what it felt like to be alone with no one there to hold you and promise that everything would be okay, so she sympathized with Billie’s plight. But just because Billie didn’t have anybody in her life didn’t mean that Dylan couldn’t follow her heart and be happy.
“Now, you know yo’ ass owe me.” Tee-Tee walked into the store, stopped, and pulled out a receipt. “Twenty-five dollars and thirty–two cents.”
“Really, Tee-Tee?” Dylan spun around, still upset. “You seriously gon’ sit up here and sweat me over twenty-five fuckin’ dollars? Here.” She grabbed her purse. “Let me give you this money before I have to punch the shit outta you.”
“Is she talkin’ to me?” Tee-Tee looked to the side and asked one of the salesgirls. “’Cause I could’ve sworn this bitch mistook me for a punk. She must not know ’bout me.”
He reached inside his bra and revealed a switchblade. “Now, let me tell you one thing.” He walked up on Dylan with the knife in his hand. “Don’t let the platform Gucci’s and the three hundred–dollar sew-in fool you. Respect my gangsta, ’cause in about ten-point-two seconds, I’ma go
Kill Bill
on dat ass. Please believe I got a jar of Vaseline and some high top sneakers on deck. Now, try me.”
“Boy, put that damn knife up.” She jerked back.
“Okay now.” He rolled his eyes. “I love you, God knows I do, but don’t make me come outside myself, Dylan.”
“I’m sorry, cousin.” Dylan gave him an apologetic hug. “That trick made me mad.”
“Both of y’all was wrong.”
“I ain’t even do anything,” Dylan whined like a child.
“And the best actress in a drama series goes to . . .” Tee-Tee placed his hand up to his mouth and yawned.
“Seriously?” Dylan shot him a look.
“Yes! She shouldn’t have called you stupid. That was wrong, but you ain’t have to go in on her marriage. You know that’s a touchy subject for her.”
“I understand that.” Dylan sat down across from him. “But what about the shit she said to me? She ain’t have to bring up my infection.”
Tee-Tee tried not to, but he couldn’t help but laugh.
“You gotta admit that was funny,” he said.
“Fuck you.” Dylan laughed too. “But for real, what am I gon’ do? ’Cause I’m not leaving State alone no matter what she say or how she feel, but I also want to keep my friendship.”
“I mean, the only thing you can do is talk and put everything out on the table.”
“I guess.” Dylan sighed. “I just hope we can get past this.”
Three
A.M.
was fast approaching, and Billie hadn’t slept a wink. For hours, she’d tossed and turned under the covers. The argument she and Dylan had replayed over and over again in her mind. All day long she’d wanted to call and apologize, but her stubborn pride just kept getting in the way. Plus, she wasn’t ready to make nice. Dylan had said things she wasn’t sure were forgivable. She knew how her separation from Cain affected her. Many nights went by where Billie cried on her shoulder. For Dylan to say the things she did had to mean that she already felt that way.
That shit didn’t come from nowhere, but Billie still couldn’t place all the blame on Dylan. She’d dished out her own tray of insults that she was sure burned like hot coal. Every part of her wanted to be supportive of Dylan and State’s relationship, but the concerned friend within her couldn’t muster up an attitude of acceptance. Yet and still, she and Dylan had been friends for too many years to count. Like her marriage, she wasn’t willing to lose a friendship she’d invested time, love, and loyalty into. Pushing aside her complex feelings, Billie picked up the phone and dialed Dylan’s number.
“Hello?” She answered on the first ring, wide awake.
“So, I guess you call yourself still having an attitude?” Billie questioned jokingly.
“Girl, nah, you know I can’t stay mad at you forever. I thought you were still upset wit’ me. I was gon’ call you tomorrow.” Dylan sat up.
“I was . . . am, but you’re my sister, and I love you despite your flaws.”
“That’s good to know.” Dylan chuckled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “I love you too, Billie, and I’m sorry for everything I said.”
“I’m sorry too. I should’ve never called you stupid. That was wrong. I just had a fucked-up morning and took it out on you.”
“What happened?” Dylan quizzed.
“The usual. Cain and I got into it.”
“Oh.” Dylan sat quietly, unsure if she should say what she thought.
“And I know what you’re thinking.” Billie read her mind. “I should file for divorce and move on with my life ... but it’s just not that simple. He’s my husband, and I have to believe that somewhere deep down inside he still loves me. Like, who could just walk away from an eleven-year marriage as if it were nothing?”
“Sweetie—”
“No,” Billie cut her off. “Please don’t give me the you-cando-better speech, ’cause I already know I can. I’m strong and I’m intelligent, but for some reason, when it comes to Cain, I lose all sense of self.”
“I know how you feel,” Dylan said, thinking of State. “Well, at this point, you have to do what’s best for you. I mean, it’s only been a couple of months. Who knows? Cain may come to his senses and beg for your forgiveness. Then you’ll renew your vows and live happily ever after.”
“I wish everyone was as optimistic as you.” Billie smiled. “Now, what are we going to do about this whole State sitchiation, as Tee-Tee would say? Why are you back with him?”
“I know it’s a mess, but, Billie, there is just something about him that I cannot let go of. Like, he was the father of my baby, and yeah, he ain’t want me to keep it, but that shit don’t go away. Like, I love him, and I wanna see us work this time.”
“And you really think it will?”
“I mean, I hope so,” Dylan responded optimistically.
“I guess,” Billie said, still weary.
“I really want all of us to get together for dinner. I feel like if you got a chance to sit down with him and see his personality, then you’d understand why I care for him so much.”
“I just don’t like his ass. Ugh.” Billie balled her fist. “But for you, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. Trust me; you won’t regret your decision.”
The day of the ill-fated dinner had finally arrived. They were to have drinks at 609 Lounge then travel next to door to the sushi restaurant Blue Ocean. Dylan was dressed to the nines in a hippie-inspired Diane Von Furstenberg long-sleeve, flowy, brightly colored sheath dress that hit mid-thigh. To cinch in the waist, she wore a black leather belt. Instead of showcasing her signature bob, she rocked her hair to the back with an eighteen inch weave. An Indian-like headband with flowers and feathers enhanced her spring-inspired makeup. To complete the ultra unique outfit, she rocked a Carlos Falchi pleated clutch purse and extreme cutout sandals.
Dylan had never been more nervous in her life. Bringing Billie and State together was like the ultimate
Clash of the Titans
. In one corner you had Billie, the Oprah Winfrey of the social scene, and in the other, State, the Bill Gates of hip-hop. With all of that money and ego in one room, there was bound to be a conflict of personalities. But Dylan was determined to stay hopeful and pray that somehow, some way, the two most important people in her life would get along.
Checking the clock on the wall, Dylan wondered what could be keeping State. They’d made an agreement that he was supposed to pick her up by seven. It was now 7:50
P.M.
Tired of waiting, she picked up the phone and called him.
“Wassup,” he answered.
“Where are you?” Dylan spoke, frustrated.
“Just leaving the office. Why, wassup?”
“What do you mean, wassup? Tonight we’re having dinner with Billie and Tee-Tee, remember?”
“Aw, damn.” He faked like he’d forgotten. “My bad. I forgot, babe.”
“It’s okay,” she replied, looking down at her feet. What Dylan really wanted to say was, “How could you forget? We’ve been talkin’ about this all fuckin’ week!”
“Well, just meet me at the restaurant then,” she said. “I’ll take a cab.”
“I’m already runnin’ late, babe. Why don’t you just go by yourself?”
Breathing in deep, Dylan told herself,
Don’t spazz out on him. Don’t spazz out.
“But everybody’s expecting you,” she reasoned, gathering her emotions.
“I know, but I gotta go home and take a shower, then find something to wear, and besides that, it looks like it’s about to rain.”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, State? You know how important this is to me,” she spat, heated.
“I understand that, but they’re your friends. It’ll be cool wit’ just y’all.”
“And a partridge and a pear tree,” Dylan shot, fed up. “Whateva, State. I’ll go by my damn self, but before I do, let me introduce you to someone I just met. His name is dial tone.” She hung up before he could respond.
How could I have been so stupid, to believe that things would be different the second time around? His ass ain’t gon’ never change. And why the fuck is it raining?
Dylan thought as she exited the cab. Pissed off beyond belief, she placed her head down and ran into the lounge. The sound of Jay-Z’s song “Run This Town” bombarded her eardrums. To the left of her, sitting on large black leather ottomans, were Billie and Tee-Tee.
“Where in the hell have you been?” Tee-Tee rolled his neck with an attitude. “We’ve been waiting on you since seven-thirty.”
“I’m sorry.” She walked over and air-kissed both of his cheeks. “I had to catch a cab.”
“Why? Where is State?” Billie placed down her drink, ready to go off.
Dylan wanted to tell the truth. She wanted to admit that Billie was right and that State hadn’t changed. But to see the looks on their faces and to hear the “I told you so” would be too much for her to take. Unwilling to succumb to defeat, Dylan parted her lips and said, “He’s coming. He’s just running a little late.”
“Oh, ’cause I was gettin’ ready to say . . .” Billie picked up her drink and took another sip.
“You look cute,” Dylan said to Tee-Tee, trying her best to avoid the conversation.
“Thank you, girl,” he responded, doing the cabbage patch. “Let me give you a better view.” He stood up and pretended to pose for a camera.
Dylan thought she was out there with the way she dressed, but Tee-Tee took style to a whole ’nother level. He wore his hair in a low and close platinum blonde buzz cut. On his face he donned a pair of Maison Martin Margiela shades and candy apple red lipstick. On his body he sported a red long sleeve fitted shirt, but what set off the top was the fact that it had a trail of fringes on the sleeves. For him to be a man, Tee-Tee had a body most women would kill for, and he loved to show it off. To showcase his voluptuous behind and thighs, he rocked a pair of extra-tight lime green skinny leggings, and purple five-inch stilettos.
“You are fierce, darling!” Dylan gave him two snaps in a circle. “Strangé-strangé.”
“Will the real Amber Rose please stand up?” Tee-Tee rolled his torso like a belly dancer. “Don’t I look just like her? All I need is a li’l angry brown chipmunk to be my Kanye West.”
“You are a mess.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell y’all Angel called today,” Billie announced.
Angel was Billie’s younger brother and Dylan’s secret crush. Since junior high they’d been sworn enemies, but beneath the surface lay a deep attraction between the two of them.
“He said that he wanted us to come to L.A. in May for the announcement of his fight.”
“All right! I miss boo.” Tee-Tee sat back down and smacked his lips.