Still Wifey Material (9 page)

“Come on, man, let’s go!” the second guy insisted as he walked backward out of the office.

“Slow your ass down, man!” the leader snapped. “We got to lock their asses up in the bathroom before we go anywhere.”

The other guy peeped out into the hallway. “Ain’t no lock on the outside of the bathroom door, so we gon’ have to leave ’em in here.”

“A’ight. Well, come on.” The leader yanked the phone cable out of the wall so that there was no way that we would have been able to plug it back up to use it. He made us give him our cellular phones and demanded that I hand over the keys to the shop. “They’re in the top left drawer of the desk,” I told him.

They backed out of the office, closed the door, and locked us inside. The feeling we all had once those bastards left our presence was indescribable. Rachael looked like she was about to pass out, and Carmen acted like she was about to have a meltdown. Her eyes welled up with tears and before I could utter one word, she began to sob uncontrollably. I immediately embraced her.

“Go ahead and let it out,” I encouraged her as I held her tightly. Carmen was as stiff as a board. I knew she was suffering from emotional defeat because I could not get her to embrace me for nothing in the world. The fact that we were locked up in that small-ass room didn’t help the situation at all. Rachael made it even worse by complaining about how claustrophobic she was and that if somebody didn’t come to let us out soon, then she was going to have a panic attack.

“Can you please calm the hell down?” I roared. “Remember, you aren’t the only one stuck in here.”

“How can I be calm when I have a medical condition?”

“I’m not a fucking doctor! So you’re going to have to come up with a solution on your own,” I snapped.

Rachael wasn’t trying to hear me. She wanted out of that office more than we could imagine, so she started banging on the wall, hoping it would get the women’s attention from the African braiding shop next door. Unfortunately for us, their music was blasting so loudly that there was no way they were going to hear us.

We sat there and prayed that someone would come by and let us out. We knew Carmen’s fiancé wouldn’t be stopping by because she had not spoken to him all day. Normally when he did that, she said, he was out taking care of business, so the only other people that would have a remote interest in stopping by would be Kira or Peter, Rachael’s husband. We hoped that one of them came soon, because I didn’t think we’d last long in there.

T
he Aquarium restaurant was so nice and cozy! Fatu and I were seated around an elaborate aquarium filled with over one hundred species of colorful fish and marine life. It was truly unbelievable. What really stood out for me was the array of seafood entrees. Fatu had the sixteen-spice tuna with pan-fried green beans, and I had a filet mignon with Thai pepper shrimp and a vegetable medley. To wash everything down, we sipped on a bottle of white Zinfandel and talked ourselves to death. Once again, I could say that I truly enjoyed myself in his company.

After our lunch date ended, he whipped out his titanium American Express card to pay for our food and then he invited me to come back to his nightclub with him to share a bottle of champagne. I declined his offer because I wasn’t dressed appropriately, but when he assured me that I would be hanging out with him in his back office, I conceded.

The ambiance at the club was pleasant. It was around five o’clock, so there weren’t any partygoers there as of yet. A couple of his employees ran around rearranging and setting up things before the crowd started pouring in. On our way to his office, Fatu made a few small requests to several other employees, but there was one particular chick he felt the need to put on blast. I heard him call her Shelby. Shelby was an average-looking, brown-skinned woman with dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail. She was voluptuous in size, but she wore it well. Her attitude needed a makeover, though, and Fatu felt the need to give it to her. I stood by the bar and watched those two go at it.

“Why do I have to always play these games with you?” Fatu asked her. “Just do your job, and I’ll start taking you a little more seriously.”

“If you would live up to your word, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” Shelby roared back.

“Do you like working here?” he snapped.

“What kind of question is that? You know I love my job. I just can’t stand working for the pennies you give me. Now, if you go ahead and give me that raise you promised me some time ago, we’d all be able to get along again.”

Fatu stood there for a second as if he was running a few numbers through his mind, and then suddenly said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t accommodate that request right now. Business has been really slow this quarter. However, if things pick up between now and next quarter, then I’ll gladly give you that raise.”

Not at all happy by Fatu’s response, Shelby lashed out at him and said, “Fatu, that’s bullshit and you know it! Business is fine! But let’s just say that it wasn’t.” Her voice got more agitated. “A two-dollar-an-hour raise wouldn’t hurt you, especially with all that illegal shit y’all are doing in here! I’m not stupid! I know y’all selling more than alcohol around here.”

“All right, Shelby, that’s enough,” Fatu warned her. “If I hear another word from you, then I’m going to have you escorted out of here.”

“Fatu, do you think I really care? Escort me out of here, because I quit!” She stormed away to the bar where she went to retrieve her handbag. Right before she opened the front door to leave, she turned around and said, “You better watch your back, you cheap-ass immigrant!”

Fatu stood there in disbelief after Shelby bailed on him. I sat there on the bar stool in complete silence. I knew he probably felt awkward since I witnessed one of his employees embarrass the hell out of him, so I tried to force myself to say something to break the tension barrier, but I couldn’t get my mouth to open for nothing. Several seconds later, Fatu came around to me. “Come on. Let’s go back into my office.” He helped me down from the bar stool. “I’m sorry about all of that. I really wish you would not have witnessed that.”

“It’s OK,” I assured him as he escorted me in the direction of his office. But on some real shit, I began to wonder if the shit Shelby said was true. I mean, why else would she make that accusation? I was sure she had been working here for some time, so I knew she must have seen a lot of underhanded shit. But whether it was drugs or stolen merchandise, I didn’t want any part in it. And to make sure I didn’t get involved, I was gonna keep my eyes and ears open, because this nigga right here wasn’t worth me going to prison behind.

Once inside his office, I took a seat on Fatu’s lounge chair while he sat behind his desk. “Give me one second while I check my messages,” he said.

“Take your time,” I replied and sat back. My eyes wandered around the room and landed on his security monitors. He had five huge closed-circuit monitors, and all of them were mounted on the wall directly in front of his desk. The screens had to be every bit of forty-two inches, because you could see every move a person made without squinting your eyes. Fatu had the bar area and kitchen monitored, and he had cameras over the exits, including the alleyway in the back of the club where he received his shipments, and inside his wine cellar.

I couldn’t see any movement in the shipment area of the cellar, but there was plenty of movement in the other parts of the club. One area in particular had a whole lot going on. Bintu was groping some big-booty chick in the kitchen, near the sink. She was giggling her silly ass off while he kissed her neck and his hands got lost inside her panties. There was no sound to the video, but it didn’t matter because their actions told it all. Before I could even blink, Bintu flipped homegirl around so that her ass was facing him, unzipped his pants, lifted her skirt, and then he went in for the kill.

I couldn’t fucking believe it. This nigga actually went inside this chick without a fucking condom! To know that Nikki just fucked him made me sick to my damn stomach. I wondered if she had enough sense to make him strap up. If she didn’t, I really felt sorry for her, because whether she knew it, Bintu was dangerous and reckless. Not only that, the nigga didn’t have any regard for anyone but himself. I just hoped that Nikki didn’t think she was going to be walking down the aisle with that cat, because from the looks of it, Bintu preferred the stick-and-move lifestyle better.

Fatu made a comment to me, but since I was so preoccupied with the activity on the monitor, I didn’t hear him. Fatu snatched open the top drawer to his desk, fumbled with the remote control to the monitor, and powered down that particular monitor after several tries. Sweat beaded his forehead and he probably apologized to me over twenty times, but after I told him for the twentieth time that there was no need to apologize, he got the picture. A few minutes later Fatu excused himself.

“Take your time,” I said as I watched him walk out of his office. I already knew where he was going. I could tell he was pissed off by Bintu’s actions, and I knew he was going to straighten out his brother. I had the urge to turn the monitor back on so I could watch how Fatu was going to handle this situation, but then I got worried about getting caught, so I elected not to do it.

While I waited patiently for Fatu’s return, I couldn’t help but wonder what illegal stuff he was into. The very first thing that popped into my head was drugs. But from the looks of things, he didn’t strike me as a drug dealer. I’d been dealing with hustlers all my life, it seemed, so I knew what type of niggas they were. Fatu may have been dealing with stolen goods of some kind. Maybe he was dealing in expensive stolen cars or something. Whatever it was, it had to be bringing him in a lot of dough, because any nigga that would shell out eleven thousand dollars for two outfits and two pairs of shoes the day after he met a chick had to be making some power moves.

“I’m back!” Fatu smiled as he peeped his head around the door.

Even though I was still feeling somewhat awkward, I smiled anyway. “Did you handle your business?” I asked.

He hesitated a bit, like I had just hit him below the belt. “Yeah, I handled it. And like I said before, I am truly sorry.”

“It’s OK.”

“So, would you like to have another drink?”

“No, I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for one now.”

“Well, is there anything I can get you?” he pressed.

“No, I’m fine,” I assured him and stood to leave. I felt like I had been there long enough and overstayed my welcome, so it was time to go.

“I thought you and I were going to share a bottle of champagne?”

“I know, I know. But I’m a little burnt out, so I’m gonna run on home.”

“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

I walked toward the office door. “Not tonight.”

“Well, can I walk you to your car?”

“Sure.”

Fatu raced to open the door for me.

We had to walk back through the bar area of the club to get to the front door. When we got within four feet of it, Bintu strolled his nasty ass out of the coat room, which was right by the front entrance, and he was holding a female’s jacket in his hand. He gave me this stupid look like he didn’t know what to say to me. I looked him directly in his face and made him acknowledge me.

“How you doing?” I asked.

With the cheesiest expression he could find, he replied, “I’m doing fine, Kira. How are you?”

“I’m OK. Have you spoken with Nikki since y’all had brunch this morning?”

“No, I haven’t, but I intend to call her after I wrap up things around here.” He clutched the woman’s jacket tightly.

I glanced at the jacket and then back at him. I really didn’t have anything else to say to this nigga, but I felt like it was necessary to give him the impression that I was going to tell Nikki about his little rendezvous with that trifling-ass chicken head. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell her that I saw you.”

“OK,” he said and walked off.

I shook my head with disgust and headed out the door. Fatu followed me like a dog in heat. “You’re not gonna tell your cousin about what happened, are you?” he asked.

I stopped in my tracks and looked at him like he was crazy. “Am I not supposed to?”

“Listen, Kira, I can’t tell you what to do, but I don’t think it would be a good idea to tell Nikki about the situation with Bintu and that other woman.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but Nikki is my family. I am all she has, so I will not sit back and allow her to get caught up in some bullshit with your brother. I mean, if your brother wants to go and fuck around with different chicks, then that’s his business. But when my cousin is caught in the middle of that mess, then I have to say something.”

Fatu gently grabbed my hands. “Kira, please don’t get involved with their relationship.”

“I didn’t know they had one,” I snapped.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he said calmly. “I like you a lot, and I want to get to know you better. But if you start interfering in their business, then that’s going to lead to a major disaster.”

I stood by my car and listened to Fatu’s point of view. It made a lot of sense, but at the end of the day my loyalty to Nikki outweighed everything he said, so she and I would definitely have a long talk when I got home. I just hoped she didn’t take this thing to heart, because niggas like Bintu came a dime a dozen, so there were plenty left out there.

Before I got in my car, I lied to Fatu and told him that I wouldn’t mention one word about what I saw earlier. I only did this because he acted like he wasn’t going to let me leave if I didn’t side with him. Little did he know that I couldn’t hold water when it came to matters of the heart. That was just how I was, so he could take it or leave it.

When I arrived home I noticed that Nikki’s car wasn’t there. As soon as I wound down a bit, I called her cellular phone to see where she was. When she didn’t answer, I immediately called the salon. The phone to the shop rang about five times before the answering machine picked up, so I automatically assumed that she either just left, or she didn’t want to be bothered. Whatever it was, it really didn’t matter because I knew I was going to have a chance to talk to her. Eventually I sat back on my living room sofa and thought about exactly what I was going to tell her. I also knew that I had to have her promise that she’d keep everything that I told her to herself.