Still Wifey Material Page 4

  While I waited for Ashley to take the plastic protectors off all the clothes, I saw Nikki through my peripheral vision gritting on me really hard. She was literally staring at me like she hated my fucking guts, so I casually turned my head in her direction, and as soon as my eyes landed on her, she quickly stood and rushed off toward the restroom as if she was in desperate need of a bathroom break. I laughed to myself and shook my head because she was really pathetic. Like I said before, if she didn’t straighten out her attitude, shit was going to really get ugly between us, and I was going to come out on the winning end. You could bet your last dollar on that.

  “Are you ready?” Ashley asked. Her smile showed off her deep dimples and a perfect set of white teeth.

  “Yes, I am.” I smiled. “You have such a beautiful smile.”

  “Thank you,” she replied bashfully and proceeded to unveil her entire collection. Everything she brought with her had price tags of at least twenty-five hundred dollars. I honestly didn’t know what the hell to choose because everything she had was so nice.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Did Fatu give you any instructions about how much money I could spend?”

  Ashley shook her head. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Well, did he give me a limit on the things I could choose? Because from where I’m standing, I’m not in a good position right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ashley, you brought a lot of nice things in here, and I’m finding it very hard to choose what I like the best.”

  Ashley giggled. “Trust me, you’re not alone. I make these trips every day, and all of our clients say the same thing. But if it’s any consolation, Mr. Oduka told me to let you have anything you want.”

  “Oh really?” Images of dollars signs floated around in my head.

  “Yes, he did,” Ashley assured me.

  “OK, well let me ask you this. Has he ever had you to shop for other women?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say. But just know that he’s a very generous man.” She winked.

  Taking heed of that little bit of information, I smiled and convinced myself that money was no object for Fatu, and that I might as well have me a good ol’ time. I tried on everything I thought would look nice. Carmen and Rachael cheered me on from the sidelines. Nikki, on the other hand, sat back in silence and watched me parade around in every Vera Wang and Heidi Weisel item that I grabbed off the rack. I wasn’t going to let her get off that easy. I wanted to irritate the hell out of her, so I marched right over to her with my most sincere expression and asked, “Be honest. How does this dress look on me?”

  Nikki looked at me from head to toe and said, “It’s a’ight,” with forced nonchalance.

  “Tell me what you don’t like about it.” I pressed the issue because of the jealousy stamped across her entire face. It didn’t matter that the dress was a thirty-seven-hundred-dollar Heidi Weisel strapless, silk, bustier dress, or that my 36-24-38 measurements complemented it perfectly. The only thing that struck a cord with Nikki was that I was the wrong person wearing it (meaning: not her), so she was definitely going to say something negative.

  “Well, first off, it’s too tight around your butt. So when you sit down, the threads might unravel.”

  “Come on now, Nikki, it ain’t that tight,” Carmen disagreed.

  “It sure isn’t,” Rachael added.

  Nikki frowned. “Yes, it is.”

  “Well, did you like that satin Vera Wang cami-style dress I just took off?” My questions continued, even though I knew she loathed the fact that I was getting the royal treatment.

  “Nah, I really didn’t like that one.” She screwed her mouth up distastefully.

  “Nikki, now you know that dress was nice as hell!” Rachael blurted out.

  Nikki rolled her eyes. “Maybe it was nice to you, but I didn’t like it.”

  “Well, I thought it looked really nice on her, if I may say so myself,” Ashley interjected.

  “I liked it too, and that would be the one I’d pick,” Carmen added.

  I thought for a moment and then asked Ashley, “Do you think Fatu would mind if I got the Vera Wang dress I just took off, and the satin-and-lace Heidi Weisel bustier with the coordinating pencil skirt?”

  “I don’t see why that would be a problem,” she replied.

  “Well, I guess that settles it.”

  “Have you decided on the shoes?”

  “Yes. I definitely want those four-inch, cage-front Jimmy Choo sandals, and if you could throw in those three-and-a-half-inch, open-toed Bruno Frisoni ribbon sandals, that would be great.”

  “You got it.”

  As Ashley started packing up all of my new things, I slipped back into the office to change back into my own attire. When I returned to the lounge area with the Heidi Weisel silk bustier dress in my hand, I overheard Nikki asking Ashley what would it cost to buy the same items I just picked. Ashley told her that it would cost in the ballpark of about eleven thousand dollars. Nikki’s eyes got bigger than fifty-cent coins. “Are you serious?” she asked.

  Ashley nodded.

  “Well, what would it cost me if I wanted you to do a little shopping for me, and then bring the things by my house?”

  “Well, you would either have to have an account with us, or be a preferred customer who spends at least one hundred thousand dollars a month, whether it’s in our Saks store or online. Once that’s established, all you would need to do is get in touch with our Concierge Service, and we would handle it from there.”

  “Wow! Thanks!” I could see Nikki’s mind racing with possibilities. She was probably trying to figure out how to get Bintu to hook her up at Saks.

  “You’re quite welcome.” Ashley continued to pack up.

  I refused to allow this woman to be bombarded with any more of Nikki’s questions.

  “You can’t forget this,” I said, holding out the Heidi Weisel dress.

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget it. But I’m sure Mr. Oduka would not have minded you getting this dress as well.” She winked and took the dress out of my hands.

  I stood there and wondered if I should’ve added that dress to my collection. Then I figured, why be greedy? The way shit was going, there were bound to be more opportunities like this one. I settled for what I already had and was very satisfied.

  Before Ashley left the shop, I slipped her a one-hundred-dollar tip and thanked her for a wonderful experience. She shook my hand, handed me her business card in the event I might need her services in the near future, and left with her racks of clothes in tow, again carried by Rachael. I called Fatu to thank him again. He sounded like he was more excited than I was, so I played right along with him.

  “Well, you know what this means, right?” I asked.

  “No, tell me,” he insisted.

  “This means that I will definitely be showing up at your party on time.”

  “That really makes me happy.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “So, did you get everything you needed?”

  “Oh, of course I did. Ashley was so nice and helpful.”

  “Good, I’m glad.” Fatu sounded as if he’d just done a good deed. I massaged his ego a little, and I did it loud enough for Nikki to hear me. Surprisingly, she didn’t feed into my antics this time. Instead, she got up from her chair and announced that she was going to make a run to Quiznos to get a sub, and to let her know if anyone else wanted anything. No one made any requests, so she left.

  My conversation with Fatu only lasted another five minutes because he said he had to take another call. “Oh, OK. Take care of your business,” I insisted.

  “Can I call you back?”

  “Sure.”

  “OK. I’ll call back after I get off this conference call.”

  “All right,” I said.

  We hung up, and I waited for the return call I knew I would get.

  Bumping Heads

 
; (Nikki speaks)

  I had to get the hell out of that shop before I said something I might regret later. I mean, come on, how thick did she want to pour it on? Granted, the nigga spent a few coins on her and copped her some Heidi Weisel and some Jimmy Choo sandals. So what? I had a nigga who’d do the same damn thing for me. Kira needed to stop acting like she was the only chick in the world with a man who had money. I saw that I’d have to be the bitch to show her, because as soon as I got Bintu the way I wanted him, I was going to have that nigga spending his money on me like his mind was going bad. What was going to really fuck up Kira’s head was when he put me in a big-ass house after I gave him some of this good pussy I got. Trust me, I was going to blow that bitch’s mind, and when I did, she was going to want to take a few lessons from me. That was a promise I intended to keep.

  The moment I arrived at Quiznos, I ordered my usual chicken and Swiss Sammies with a large sweet ice tea. While I waited for my order, this five feet eleven, well-built pretty boy with long cornrows strolled inside the restaurant with a huge iced-out chain around his neck, Prada sunglasses, and an iPhone pasted to his ear. Trust me, that old R&B singer Christopher Williams didn’t have shit on this cat, so he was eye candy for sure. I played it cool and acted as if I hadn’t noticed him when he came through the door. I could tell by his swagger that he knew he looked good, so I flat out refused to feed his ego anymore.

  Besides, I shouldn’t have been all up in his face anyway. As good as I looked, he should’ve been staring at me the moment he walked through the door. I knew he was a little distracted by the conversation he was having on his cell phone, but I looked good, so he should have at least taken a quick look when he passed by me. I mean, damn! My ass was so phat, it stuck out like a sore thumb. Tell me how he missed that?

  Well, whatever he had going on in his head, it wasn’t normal. If he knew like I knew, he had better snap back into reality before I walked out of there, because I was a good catch. Besides, I would love to add his number to my collection. Shit, I’d been in Houston far too long not to be exclusive with one of the ballers around there. I had a lot to offer, and if someone would just step up to the plate and do what they were supposed to do, then I’d be able to show them what I could add to their life. Until then, I guessed I was going to be doing just what I was doing now—standing alone.

  Pretty boy finally ended his call when he realized that the woman behind the counter wasn’t going to take his order until he did so. There was a big-ass sign taped next to the register that said: No cell phone use at the register, but since he was so engrossed in his conversation, he didn’t notice it.

  “Can I get a twelve-inch steak and cheese sub with extra mushrooms and cheese?” he asked.

  “Would you like to add a bag of chips and a drink for two dollars more?” the cashier asked.

  “Yeah, go ’head.” He paid her for his order, was handed his receipt, and told to wait at the other end of the counter because his order would be up shortly.

  I stood there with my arms folded like my shit didn’t stink as he walked toward me. The beautiful part about all of this was the fact that he noticed me this time. He sized me up to the tenth power and I saw it all through my peripheral vision. I was tickled pink and loved the attention, but I refused to turn around and acknowledge him. I figured since he was checking me out, then he’d make the first move. And guess what? I was right. Homeboy got within two feet of me and said, “I can’t believe your man let you out of the house by yourself.”

  I slightly turned my head and said, “What if I told you to believe it?”

  He smiled. “Then I would tell you to get rid of him, because he ain’t the man for you.”

  “But what if I refuse to do that, because I feel like he is the man for me?”

  “Then I would tell you to let me take you out so I can make you feel otherwise.”

  I chuckled a bit because this guy was funny as hell and very determined, which were good qualities to have when dealing with me.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked as he got a little closer to me.

  I took two steps backward. “You’re funny! And why you had to get so close? You were fine where you were at.”

  He cracked another smile. “Yeah, a’ight! I’ma let you slide with that. But you got to tell me your name.”

  “Ma’am, here’s your order,” the woman behind the counter said. I took my bag from her and when I stepped back, this guy was dead on me.

  “I’m waiting,” he reminded me.

  “You tell me your name first,” I demanded.

  “My name is Neeko.”

  “Is Neeko your real name?”

  “Nah, it’s Nathan, but I prefer everybody to call me Neeko.”

  “Why? Nathan is a nice name.”

  “Yeah, it’s a’ight. But I’m waiting on you to tell me your name.”

  “It’s Nicole, but everyone calls me Nikki.” I extended my hand for him to shake.

  Neeko took my hand and shook it gently. “Nice to meet you, Nikki. Now, are you going to let me prove to you that I’m a better man than the one you got at home?”

  “Do you think you’d be up for the challenge?”

  “I think you need to be asking your man that.”

  “I will.” I took a couple of steps to my right, indicating that I was ready to go.

  “Whatcha in a rush for?”

  “I got to get back to work.”

  “Where you work at?”

  “Me and my cousin own a hair salon not too far from here.”

  “What’s the name of it?”

  “It’s called Creative Images.”

  “A’ight. Well, can I have your number so I can call you later?”

  “Sure. But don’t let your girlfriend stumble across it, because I’m not into a whole lot of drama.”

  “My girl doesn’t go through my stuff,” he assured me. To hear him tell me that he had a girl kind of threw me for a loop. I was devastated, but at least he was honest. A lot of niggas lied right off the bat because all they wanted to do was get you somewhere alone so they could fuck you. For some reason, though, Neeko seemed like he wanted to keep it real with me, and the fact that he had another woman made him look that much more desirable. I knew that sounded sick, but it was the truth. I loved fucking with cats that had a significant other because it put me up to the challenge of trying to take him from her. I may not have come out on top every time, but I left with some very nice gifts.

  What I intended to do with Neeko was just go with the flow and see what he was working with. I’d just met Bintu and we were in the process of trying to get to know each other, but at the end of the day, I was a single woman. I was young, sexy, and beautiful, and I didn’t have time to be sitting around like I was some undesirable chick with low self-esteem. Shit! It was my time now and I was going to show all the bitches in Houston that if they didn’t watch out, I was going to have their men.

  Right after he and I exchanged numbers, he walked me out to my car and assured me that he’d call me later. I watched him as he walked to his car. It was very important that I saw what he drove because if it was something whack, then I was going to avoid his call when I saw his number come up. I was really critical about dealing with men with hoopties. I looked too good to be riding in one, especially since I was now pushing a 2008 Lexus LS 460. If a nigga couldn’t come correct, then he didn’t need to come at all.

  Thank God, Neeko hopped into a new, pearl-white Yukon Denali truck. He had it sitting on 24-inch rims and the tires looked like they had just been sprayed with wet-look tire spray. They were shining like a big dawg, and I liked that. Then Neeko ruined the image when he pulled out of his parking space and turned his music up sky high, which was a complete turnoff. I hated when guys rode around with their music roaring through their car speakers. To me, it showed their immature side, so I guessed that was something that Neeko and I were going to have to work on.

  Money Does Grow On Trees

  (Kira S
peaks)

  I cannot tell you why Nikki proposed that we drive in separate cars to Bintu and Fatu’s white party. We were going to the same venue, and since we lived together, we were going back to the same place when the night was over. What is going on in her head? I wondered. When I asked her, she told me the reason why she was driving her own car was because she wanted to ride alone and clear her head. That was a lie because earlier that day I overheard Nikki tell Carmen that she planned to drive her own car because she wanted Bintu to see it, so he’d know right off the bat that she was high maintenance, and if he really wanted to get with her, he’d have to come hard like Fatu. I started to intervene in her conversation, just to let her know that she shouldn’t have to go the extra mile to prove anything to a man, but then I figured, why waste my breath? She wasn’t going to listen to me anyway. I did what I do best and left well enough alone.

  After I programmed Fatu’s nightclub address into my GPS, it took me straight there while Nikki followed. The drive was approximately twenty-five minutes, and as soon as we got within one hundred yards of the club, we noticed that there was valet parking available. Nikki and I pulled up directly in front of the club and made use of it. One of the valet attendants handed me a ticket for my car and directed me to the VIP entrance. I tried to wait for Nikki so we could walk into the club together, but she was taking her precious time. I took one last look and made sure I was showing just enough cleavage in my Heidi Weisel bustier. The satin pencil skirt was working every curve I had. Once I felt like everything was in order, I put one Jimmy Choo sandal in front of the other and made my way inside.

  It seemed like every eye in the entire place focused on me once I crossed the threshold. I immediately felt out of place because it seemed like I was the only American in the entire place. Although it was a white party, the women had on tailor-made, gold-and-white African garments with the head wraps to match. My own hair was tucked inside a lace-front wig cut into the style of a bob, not to mention the fact that my titties looked like they were about to spill over. I knew I was going to be the talk of the evening. I thanked God for Nikki because as soon as she walked in behind me with her tight-ass white Christian Dior pencil skirt and the complementary white asymmetrical blouse, she got just about as much eye service as I did.