Material Girl (7 page)

Read Material Girl Online

Authors: Keisha Ervin

“Now, you know Angel is Dylan’s man.”
“Yeah, okay.” Dylan side-eyed her. “Where did that come from?”
“My mouth, heffa,” Billie challenged. “Everybody knows you got a thang for my brother.”
“You must be smokin’,” Dylan said, trying to keep a straight face.
“Anyway, what you want to drink?” Tee-Tee asked her.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
The next thing Dylan knew, an hour had gone by and she was on her third cranberry and Absolut. State was nowhere to be found, and her friends were starting to get suspicious. Dylan wondered if the anxiety she felt could be read on her face. Why did State have to go and prove Billie right? More importantly, how could she have been so wrong?
“Okay, let’s all quit pretending that it’s not a big-ass elephant in the room,” Tee-Tee blurted out, unable to hold it in anymore. “Is State coming or what?” He looked Dylan directly in the eye.
“Uhhhh . . .” She paused then shrugged.
“I knew it.” Billie chuckled and shook her head. “I told you his ass wasn’t shit.”
As Dylan felt an ocean of tears burning the rims of her eyes, she glanced out the window and spotted State parking his car.
“There he is!” She pointed and shouted, happy that he showed up.
“Shut the front door.” Tee-Tee gasped, surprised.
Yeah, sure he was an hour and a half late, but for him to even attempt to come through on his promise was a huge accomplishment for their relationship. It solidified that what she’d been praying for was coming true. He was trying to change, and this time, he wasn’t going to play with her heart.
State opened the lounge door and time stood still. An unexplainable confidence exuded from his skin. He made women hotter than Jamaica. Everything about him was dangerous; but the sweetest thing about him was that he was all hers.
“All right, Clark Kent.” Tee-Tee licked his lips.
“Wassup?” State softly kissed Dylan on the mouth.
Being around her and her peoples was like playing with fire, but State couldn’t let Dylan look like a fool in front of them, especially Billie. He knew Dylan would be hearing her mouth for weeks if he didn’t show up. Plus, he’d hurt her enough in the past to last a lifetime.
“Hi.” She spoke and gave a broad grin.
“How y’all doing?” He gave Billie and Tee-Tee a head nod.
“Better now, honey.” Tee-Tee winked his eye.
“Sorry I’m late.” State ignored him and sat down. “So, what y’all drinkin’?”
“Um, I’m having an apple martini,” Billie responded, flabbergasted that he’d actually come.
“Let me get you another one.” State signaled a waitress.
Even though she’d secretly hoped he wouldn’t show just so she could be right, Billie gave Dylan a warm smile. She hadn’t seen her friend smile so brightly in months, and to know that State was the one who made her feel that way encouraged her. Maybe some men could transform themselves into what their woman wanted them to be. Maybe the time they’d spent apart had changed State into a better human being. It was obvious in the way he gazed into Dylan’s eyes that he cared tremendously for her. There was no way Billie could hate on that.
Over drinks and sushi, Dylan and her loved ones shared memories, stories, and laughs.
“This has been fun,” Billie stated. “I think we should all get together again at my place.”
“Really?” Dylan’s eyes grew wide with excitement.
“Yeah, really.”
Overjoyed, Dylan indulged in what appeared to be the promise of a bright future.
After having drinks and sushi, Dylan returned home and immediately drifted off to sleep. She hadn’t been asleep three hours before she heard a loud knock at the door. Unable to move an inch, she lay still, praying that whoever was at the door would get the hint and go away. But apparently the person knocking was determined for someone to answer.
Aggravated that she couldn’t sleep in peace, Dylan snatched off her Egyptian cotton covers and stomped into the living room. With one eye closed, she peeked through the peephole. To her displeasure, she saw her mother causing the ruckus.
“Oh my God. Not now.” She winced.
If I pretend like I’m not here, will she go away?
“It would be nice if you would open the door. I can hear you breathing.” Candy put her eye up to the peephole as well.
“Damn it.” Dylan spoke underneath her breath. Reluctantly, she placed her hand on the knob and turned.
“Tyra mail!” Candy yelled with her arms in the air.
“Tone it down!” Dylan imitated her. “What are you doing here so soon?”
“I told you I would be here, so here I am,” Candy said as she passed by her and entered the house.
In the year since they last saw one another, nothing had changed about her mother. She still possessed the stunning looks of a beauty queen, but to Candy, the old adage “less is more” wasn’t true. To her, the more cleavage you showed, the better you looked, and at four o’clock in the morning, she had them on full display. The burgundy V-neck Juicy Couture shirt highlighted her thirty-six double D breast implants well. Dylan could hardly stare her mother in the eye. Her eyes kept traveling back to her mouth. Candy had so much collagen in her lips that she looked like a blowfish.
“Chunky, can you grab those bags for me?” she said over her shoulder as she took off her shades and placed down the one Louis Vuitton bag she was carrying.
“Sure.” Dylan clenched her jaw tight.
Expecting to see one or two suitcases, Dylan stepped into the hallway to find five.
Now, wait a minute. How long this chick think she’s staying?
she pondered.
Once all of the bags were inside, Dylan closed the door behind her and wondered if she had made the right decision on letting her mother stay.
“So this is your new place . . . hmm.” Candy twisted up her face while gazing around.
“And what is that supposed to mean, hmm?”
“Nothing. It’s . . . very you. I mean, I can’t get wit’ all these Forever 21–ass colors, but you gotta live here, not me.”
“Whateva.” Dylan waved her off.
“Okay now, girl, you better watch yo”self. I’m still yo’ mother.”
Barely,
Dylan thought as she heard something bark.
“What the hell was that?”
“Oh, girl, my new doggy.” Candy reached down and unlatched the lock on the bag she brought in. “Ain’t she cute? I named her Fuck ’em Gurl.”
Dylan eyed her mother and wondered if she had not only bumped her head, but lost her mind in the process.
The dog was precious. She was a winter white malti-poo, but that still didn’t change the fact that Dylan hated all animals, including dogs.
“Before I flip out, I’m going to take into consideration that you weren’t much of a mother to me as a child, so you might’ve forgotten that I
hate
dogs!” she said with a menacing stare.
“Ugh, you ain’t gotta make that face when you talk. It’s really not all that cute, and while we’re on the subject, what the heck is going on wit’ yo’ head?” Candy ran her hand through Dylan’s hair, which was all over her head. “Hot night? Get it? Hot ... night?” Candy simulated giving head, with her fist coming toward her mouth and her tongue poking her jaw.
“No, and stop!” Dylan yanked her head away.
“I swear you’s a grump in the morning. Just like that ol’ ignorant-ass daddy of yours.”
I do not have time for this shit,
Dylan thought, feeling like she was about to cry. The last thing she wanted to hear was how much she reminded her mother of her deceased father, who Candy hated so much.
“Look, just make yourself at home and keep that damn dog away from me. I’m going back to bed.”
“Well, ain’t you hospitable. I ain’t come here to sleep. I came to kick it. Where the party at?” Candy snapped her fingers and threw her hips from side to side.
“I just got home, Ma. I’m tired.”
“It’s cool. Go ’head, ’cause I’ma make it do what it do, baby. Just point me in the direction of my friend Jack. I know he round here somewhere.” She went into Dylan’s kitchen and began opening up the cabinets. “Where he at?”
“Candy! It’s four in the damn morning. You don’t need nothing to drink.”
“Girl, please. Ain’t nothing wrong wit’ a li’l early morning sip.”
“This is not happening to me,” Dylan said to herself. “I don’t have any Jack Daniel’s. All I have is a bottle of Moët and a bottle of Cîroc in the refrigerator.”
“Moët?” Candy held her head back in pure disgust. “Who in the hell want some damn Moët? Moët is for muthafuckas who can’t handle no liquor. And Cîroc, don’t nobody want that ‘take that–take that’ Bad Boy 2009 bullshit. That niggah Jack’ll put some hair on ya pussy.”
“All right.” Dylan closed her eyes, outdone. “I’m officially over this. When I wake up, we’ll go to the store. Is that okay?”
“I guess I got no choice, chunky ass.”
“Wait, do you see my heart on my sleeve?”
—Adele, “Best for Last”
 
Chapter 7
 
State’s downtown high rise apartment was the epitome of a young bachelor’s pad, but with swank elegance and style. Although very spacious, it was still inviting. Dylan could most definitely sense a woman’s touch here and there. Following his busy work day, State and Dylan often found themselves meeting up there for drinks and quality time. Today was no exception. Now more than ever Dylan needed a place to escape from the world. Being around Candy and Fuck ’em Gurl was driving her insane.
Candy, being the night owl she was, generally stayed up until the wee hours of the morning watching Cinemax After Dark movies with the volume up high. When asked why she watched them, she said she had to keep up with all the new booty moves. It also didn’t help much that she listened to the worst music in the world on blast.
Dylan was a connoisseur of hip-hop and R&B. She loved artists like Electrik Red, Ryan Leslie, The Clipse, and J. Cole. Candy, on the other hand, liked that ol’ processed, bubblegum music. Every morning, she threw on a mix tape which consisted of Pleasure P, Ron Browz, Lil Boosie, and Dorrough, and popped her ass.
Then there was Fuck ’em Gurl. Dylan had never seen so much piss and shit in her life. Every five seconds she was stepping in piss and then having to tell Consuela to clean her hardwood floors with vinegar so the smell wouldn’t stick. For some reason, Fuck ’em Gurl preferred Dylan’s bed as a resting place.
Dylan was determined to gain peace of mind and get away from the madness. Thankfully, she had State.
As he sat at his desk taking business calls and Skyping to his business associates in New York, Dylan lay back on his futon listening to the sweet sounds of Aretha Franklin on her iPod. She wished that State would hurry up and finish. They hadn’t seen each other in a week. He’d taken an impromptu trip to Ukraine for what he told her was business. She didn’t know that State was really there visiting Ashton. Back home, he buried himself in his work. One of his biggest artists was preparing to release his third album, and he had a talent showcase as well as an open house auditions for an all-new boy band he was putting together for a reality show.
Dylan loved seeing him in his element, barking out demands. State was always in such control. She admired that most about him.
With his back facing her, he smoked a cigar. State had just finished wrapping up his Skype session, and was still talking on the phone to C.I. Dylan simply couldn’t control herself. Pulling out her earphones, she sat up and began to slowly unbutton her blouse. State had no idea what she was doing behind him. As soon as her shirt was off, Dylan stood up and unzipped her jeans. The cool sensation from the floor sent chills up her spine. Quietly, she sauntered over to him, dressed in nothing but her panty and bra set.
The outline of his broad shoulders heightened her yearning for him. Bending over, she let her arms fall over his shoulders as her lips met with the side of his neck.
“Yo’,” he said, caught off guard by Dylan’s sudden desire for him. “Let me call you right back. “What are you doing, miss lady?” he asked as soon as he hung up.
“Nothing.” She grinned, making her way around the chair.
Leaning against his desk, she cocked her head to the side and shot him a look filled with lust.
“Wait a minute.” State closed his eyes and laughed. “Why don’t you have any clothes on?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was a little hot.” She licked her lips suggestively.
“You wild as a muthafucka, ma.”
“Come spend some time with me. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, but I got a lot of work to do,” he said, scooting up his chair, pushing Dylan out of the way.
“I know you do,” she responded, standing up straight, slightly annoyed by his blatant disregard of her. “But I got a lot on my plate too. You know my mother’s in town, and she’s driving me nuts. Plus, she brought this dog with her who constantly pees everywhere. And do you know that that damn dog peed in my one-of-a-kind Lanvin sandals? And then on top of that, I haven’t been gettin’ any sleep. I just need a vacation,” she groaned, while State ignored her and continued working.
“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”
“Yeah, just let me finish this.” He focused on the paperwork in front of him.
“What all do you have to do?” Dylan picked up some of the files he had before him. “Maybe I could help.”
“Nah, I’m good, but thanks.” He took them out of her hand. “This not really yo’ thing. Why don’t you go sit and be pretty? Better yet, why don’t you put back on your clothes and go fix us something to eat or something?”
Is this niggah tryin’ to call me dumb?
“How about we both go and find something to eat? Or better yet, order in.” She leaned down and tried kissing him again.
“Yoooo, chill out!” He pushed her away, aggravated with her presence. “Go . . . sit . . . doooooown somewhere!”
Shocked by his reaction, Dylan stood paralyzed. She’d already looked past the fact that he hadn’t touched the brownies she’d brought over, but for him to be rude to her was downright unacceptable. Sure, he had a lot going on, but hell, he was the one who asked her to come over. She could’ve easily stayed at home and dealt with Ren and Stimpy, but no; like always, when State called, she jumped. As a matter of fact, every time they chilled with one another, it was always at his place. Anything they ever did was always on his time and his terms. Where they ate, what they drank, where they slept, when they fucked—it was all his decision. Dylan never got a say.
Maybe that was her fault because she never spoke up. Dylan feared that if she did, she’d become less than the perfect woman she’d built herself up to be. Everything about her was supposed to be easy and uncomplicated. Now that she had him, she wasn’t willing to rock the boat, but being a Stepford Wife was proving to be too difficult. Any time she went outside the norm of what State wanted her to do or to be, there was a problem.
Never wanting to be viewed as weak or meek, Dylan silently walked across the room and grabbed her things.
“Where you going?” he asked.
“Home.” She placed on her shirt. “I’ma let you finish doing your work.”
“Yo’, my bad for yellin’ at you.” He reached out and took her hand. “I got a lot on mind, and I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed.”
“It’s cool, but let me explain something to you. I don’t know who you think I am, but please believe you got me fucked up.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He cocked his head back.
“It means don’t you ever in your life speak to me that way again. Just because I’m nice to yo’ ass don’t mean that you can treat me any kind of way. Do you understand?”
“The question is do you understand how much you making my dick hard right about now?” He positioned her hand on his dick and kissed her lips roughly.
“I’m happy I made you feel that way.” She gave him a peck on the lips then stepped back, not in the mood. “But I gotta go.” She put on her jeans then slid on her shoes.
“Word? That’s really how you feel? I said I was sorry.”
“I’ll see you later, State.” Dylan swung her purse over her shoulder then left without saying another word.
 
 
Dylan bobbed her head and sang as she put the finishing touches on a freshly rolled blunt. She’d done enough stressing to last her a lifetime in the last several months. She for damn sure wasn’t going to do that tonight. If State wanted to act a monkey, he could do it by his damn self. Dylan for damn sure wasn’t beat for his shit. She had her own stuff to deal with, the main one being how to get rid of her mother.
Thankfully, she was gone that night. Candy was out in the streets doing God knows what, but that was all right. As long as she didn’t get a collect call from jail, Dylan was more than fine with her being gone.
Once the blunt was rolled perfectly, Dylan lit it and inhaled deeply. A wonderland of magic and pleasure filled her mind. This was what she needed. This is what she called fun: a night at home alone with the music up high while getting high.
Forget State. His stank attitude was not going to ruin her night. Dylan loved him, but she wasn’t going to let him treat her any kind of way. Candy might’ve been a lot of things, but she ain’t raise no fool, and Dylan was determined not be a fool for State again. No, this time she would do things differently.
Scooting back, she leaned her head against the back of the couch and zoned out. One of her favorite songs from Jay-Z’s
Blueprint 3
album was playing. “Real As It Gets” featuring Jeezy was her shit. The beat, mixed with the weed, had Dylan feeling like she was on another planet where debt didn’t exist, heartache was a mystery, and anything you desired was yours for the taking.
Dylan heard the sound of heavy panting and looked down. To her displeasure, Fuck ’em Gurl was sitting beside her with her tongue out, gazing up at her.
“What the hell are you lookin’ at?” Dylan spat as if the dog could answer. “If you didn’t piss everywhere, maybe I could like you.” She rubbed the top of Fuck ’em Girl’s head as the doorbell rang. “Lord, please don’t let Candy have lost her key again,” Dylan said out loud, getting up. “Who is it?”
“Delivery for Dylan.”
Delivery,
she thought.
Ooooh, maybe it’s the skis and the Tori Spelling jewelry I ordered off of HSN the other night.
She opened the door.
“Hi, are you Dylan?” the deliveryman asked.
“Yeeeeeees.” She clapped her hands, excited.
“I have an order of bread, mussels, lobster ravioli, and seafood risotto from Mihali’s for you, courtesy of a gentleman named State.”
Now, why did he have to go and do something so sweet so soon?
she thought.
I wanted to be mad at him for at least another hour.
“Thank you.” She graciously smiled, taking the bags.
The right thing to do as soon as she shut the door would’ve been to call State and thank him, but the hunger pains in her stomach outweighed proper etiquette. Dylan scurried across the room into the kitchen. The aroma coming from the bags had her drooling, but just as she was about to dig in and do some damage, the phone rang.
“Damn!” Dylan balled her fist tight. Sliding across the floor in her socks, she picked up the phone.
“Hello?” she said, slightly out of breath.
“You still mad?” State asked.
“Maybe.”
“Well, I’ll say it again: I’m sorry. I never wanted to upset you.”
“That’s good to know.”
“A’ight, Dylan, you can stop actin’ like you a part of the
Bad Girls Club
.”
“Who said I was actin’?” she opposed.
“Did you get the food?” He changed the subject.
“Yes, so can we wrap this conversation up so I can go eat?”
“You got me fucked up if you think you gon’ eat that food without me. Come open the door,” he demanded.
“You are not outside.”
“Just open the goddamn door.”
Hanging up in his ear, Dylan unlocked the door and stared into State’s puppy-dog eyes.
“Yo’ ass been smoking?” he asked.
“No, my mother was earlier,” she lied.
State hated smokers.
“Why you so mean to me?” He reached out and pulled her into him by the waist.
“Yeah, right. I need to be asking you that question.”
“You know I love you,” he said sincerely while running his hand over the top of her head.
“No, you don’t.” Dylan looked down at her feet, afraid he might see the hope in her eyes.
“Look at me.” He placed his hand underneath her chin and made her look at him. “Don’t tell me how I feel. If I tell you something, that’s what I mean.”
Unable to speak, Dylan choked back the tears and nodded.
“Now tell me you love me too.”
“I love me too,” she joked.
“Yo’ ass can’t never act right.” State chuckled.
“No, seriously, I love you too.”
“I know you do. Now, let’s go eat this food. I’m hungry as a muthafucka.”
 
 
Two weeks later, Dylan and State, along with her mother, made their way over to Billie’s for dinner. Dylan was overjoyed. State was really making an honest effort to be involved in her life. It felt good that they were finally building a future together. She was no longer chasing pavements, flying in circles, waiting for her heart to drop.
“How much longer we got to get there? My damn foot fallin’ asleep,” Candy complained from the backseat.

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