Still Wifey Material Page 5

  “Why is everyone staring at us?” she yelled so I could hear her over the loud music.

  “It’s probably because we look good,” I yelled back.

  “And what kind of music are they listening to?”

  “Beats me.” I looked around the room to see if either Bintu or Fatu were in sight before I took another step inside.

  “Are you looking for me?” I heard a voice yell from behind me. Nikki and I turned around and saw Bintu standing behind us with the biggest smile he could give. Nikki was very happy to see him.

  “What kind of question is that? You know we were.” She smiled and grabbed him by the arm, letting everybody in the place know that she was there especially for him. I saw a couple of women turn up their noses after Nikki embraced Bintu, and it was funny to see. After Nikki got her ten minutes of fame by throwing herself all over Bintu, we finally got a chance to speak to one another. He signaled one of his servers to bring Nikki and I each a glass of Cristal.

  “Enjoy your champagne, and mingle with my other guests while I go get Fatu,” he encouraged us. I wasn’t about to go off and start introducing myself to a bunch of people I didn’t know. Instead, Nikki and I headed over to the nearest table and sat down so that we could take a load off our feet. I wasn’t going to lie. My shoes were fly as hell, but they were killing me. I guessed that was the price you had to pay to look gorgeous.

  While the foreign-sounding music blared in our ears, I felt the need to spark up a conversation with Nikki. It would’ve looked really silly for us to be the only people sitting at the table, and we weren’t talking to each other. I took another sip from my glass and said, “Are you glad you came out tonight?”

  She hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Not really, because I thought it was going to be different than this. But, hey, we’re here now, so I guess we’re going to have to make the best of it.”

  “Yeah, I’m feeling you. I’m going to get me a couple more glasses of this Cristal, talk with Fatu a bit, and then I’m going to be on my way.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Nikki agreed.

  “So, what do you think about Bintu?” I tried to get the conversation flowing.

  “He’s all right, I guess. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I saw how happy you were to see him, that’s all.”

  “Girl, please. I’m just trying to play the role so he can start piling off some of that dough he’s got, and that’s it.”

  I chuckled. Before I could come back with some advice, Bintu and Fatu popped up at our table.

  “I found him,” Bintu announced. When I saw that handsome, bald headed, six-feet-four, 215-pound man, I almost fainted. It was unbelievable. This man looked just like the model and actor Djimon Hounsou himself, and I wanted nothing else but to jump right into his fucking arms. I managed to hold my composure and gave him my prettiest smile as I extended my hand in greeting. “How are you?”

  Fatu took my hand and kissed it. “I’m doing well, now that you’re here.”

  My smile got bigger. “Likewise,” I assured him.

  He smiled right back and looked at Nikki, then asked her if she was enjoying herself. Of course she lied. Shit, I lied too when he asked me the same question. What were we supposed to do? Tell him that his party really sucked, and that we were ready to get out of there? No way! We had to be diplomatic about it, and it paid off.

  A few moments later Fatu extended his hand and asked me to follow him. “I want you to meet someone.” I took his hand and stood.

  “Which way are we going?” I asked.

  “On the other side of the room.” He looked at me from head to toe. “Oh, by the way, you look stunning tonight!” He flashed me another smile, showing me his beautiful, white teeth.

  “I have you to thank for that. But you look pleasing to the eye as well.” I took one long look at the way his white linen shirt and pants fit his physique. I could tell the size of his dick from the first glance, and it was a sight to see. There was no question in my mind that it was at least eight or nine inches. Hopefully one day I’d get to try it out, because if it was anywhere near as good as it looked hidden beneath all that linen, then he and I were going to become very close.

  “Thank you.” He led me to a group of people huddled together, sipping on champagne while making small talk. It turned out that they were his immediate family members. He first introduced me to his mother and father. Mr. Oduka was a fairly decent-looking big guy. He reminded me of the actor James Earl Jones. Mrs. Oduka, on the other hand, wasn’t all that attractive. I tried to come up with at least a dozen people to figure out who she reminded me of, and the only person I could think of was the late Florida Evans from Good Times. I couldn’t tell if she had that same little Afro, since she too wore a head wrap, but she definitely resembled the late actress.

  As I looked at them together, I couldn’t imagine Mr. Oduka being faithful to her. I would bet my entire savings that he either had another wife, or he had a lot of women he tricked with back in Africa, because this lady didn’t have a bit of sex appeal. I figured she had some self-esteem issues. The way that Mr. Oduka stared at me while she stood next to him led me to believe that she knew about his infidelity. Poor lady! The things we did to keep a marriage together because of money. And you know what? I wasn’t mad at her. Shit, a girl had to do what a girl had to do.

  Next up to bat was Fatu’s sister, whom he called Suri. She was a bit on the chunky side, but she was fairly decent-looking in the face. I could tell that she bleached her skin a lot because she looked kind of flushed, and her face and neck skin tones didn’t match. Other than that, she seemed like she was a pleasant person. I was also introduced to a couple of Fatu’s male cousins, Kofi and Matthew, and they seemed a bit friendlier than the other family members. I could tell that they were much younger than Fatu and Bintu, but they had a swagger about them that would have you believe that they were also powerful men. When Fatu and I stepped away from his family, I asked him what Kofi and Matthew did for a living.

  “They work for me,” Fatu replied. “But they also have a couple small businesses on the side.”

  “Think I can get a job too?” I joked.

  “You could work for me any day.” Before I knew it, I had been escorted around the entire nightclub and was introduced to everyone but his servers. What was so interesting about my meeting everyone was that they wanted to know whether Fatu and I were a couple. He told a few of them that we were just friends, but the other ones, like his cousins and a few of the other men who were smiling all in my face, Fatu told them that I was his special lady, and I let him ride with that too. After all, he did earn that right after I ran up an eleven-thousand-dollar tab in his name. I just hoped that the spending didn’t stop there.

  Once Fatu made all his rounds, or rather showed me off to his people, we retired to his back office. I quickly took a seat on the black leather sofa and wasted no time removing my four-inch heels. When I started massaging my feet to soothe the aches, Fatu became a little concerned.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  I smiled. “I am fine, sweetie! I’ve just been standing on my feet too long, but I’ll be all right.”

  “Let me help you with that,” he said, grabbing my feet. But his plans were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  He answered the door and Bintu walked in and handed him what appeared to be a small, brick-like object wrapped in newspaper. “This is from Ian,” he stated.

  “Is he outside?” Fatu wanted to know.

  “No. He dropped off the money and left.”

  “OK. But let me know if Emmett comes, because I need to speak with him.”

  “No problem. I will be sure to let you know.” Bintu turned around and made his exit.

  After Bintu’s departure, Fatu locked the door behind him. “I’m sorry for the interruption,” he apologized.

  “No need to apologize. Take care of your business,” I encouraged him. Fatu unwrapped the package to reveal four ten-
stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills, each with a ten-thousand-dollar bank label wrapped around it. He was holding forty thousand dollars in his hands. He placed the money inside a safe he had hidden in the wall, behind a mounted statue of an African goddess. I acted like I didn’t see him put the money away because I didn’t want to come across as being the nosey type.

  Fatu returned and took a seat beside me on the sofa. We talked about everything under the sun. He told me he was thirty-six-years-old and Muslim, but he hadn’t picked up his Koran in a while. He also said that his birthday was August 29, which meant that he was a Leo. His family was from Lagos, Nigeria, and they were very rich in their country. I was shocked as hell when he told me that shit. I had always believed that a lot of Africans grew up poor, which was why they came to America for a better life. I guess I learned my new thing for the day.

  After he schooled me on his lifestyle back in Nigeria, he blew off my wig when he told me that his father had four wives, and that three of them lived back in Nigeria. I asked Fatu how many children his father had. When he told me that his father had eighteen children, I almost had a heart attack. I mean, there was not that much sex in the world. Not only that, I would not have allowed my man to marry another woman. I knew that was their culture over in Africa, so my best advice to them was that they needed to keep it over there, because I wasn’t down with that bullshit. It was bad enough that I had to deal with Ricky cheating on me behind my back, but to know that I had to share my husband with a couple of bitches who’d probably live in the same house as me was unacceptable, and I would have let it be known.

  Later in the conversation we talked about my likes, dislikes, and why I wasn’t in a relationship. I briefly mentioned that I had been married before, but my husband was deceased. I didn’t elaborate on the cause of his death, because I didn’t want to scare Fatu away.

  “How long has it been since he passed away?” Fatu asked with concern.

  “It’ll be two years next month.”

  “Has it been hard for you to move on with your life?”

  “Let’s just say that I moved out here to Houston specifically so that I could move on. There was no way I would have been able to move on from my past if I was still in Virginia. That place had nothing but bad memories for me, and I couldn’t take it any longer.”

  “You must’ve been through a lot, because I see the hurt in your eyes.”

  “We’ll just say that it was more than I could handle.”

  “Well, you’re here now. And I’m going to make sure you’re taken good care of.”

  “Fatu, you don’t have to do that. Sweetie, you don’t owe me anything.”

  “I know I don’t. But I like you, and the people I like, I find myself making sure that they’re all right.”

  “And that’s fine. But you’ve done enough for me already.”

  “Come on, Kira! You can’t be talking about today, because that was nothing.”

  Shocked by his words, I said, “Spending over eleven thousand dollars on me is nothing?”

  “I’m talking for you. That amount of money is nothing compared to what you’re worth.”

  I smiled and said, “I can’t argue with you on that, Fatu. But that was still an awful lot of money to spend on someone you just met.”

  “Just imagine what I can do for you if we really knew each other,” he said in his strong, manly voice. I had to admit that I was turned on. There I was, sitting in the company of this tall, dark, sexy nightclub owner, who appeared to be swimming in dough. The good part about it was that he was single, hadn’t ever been married, and didn’t have any baby mamas. Now how sweet was that? More importantly, I could tell that Fatu was the boss of everybody, including Bintu. When Nikki found out that shit, she was going to have a fucking baby! But she’d be all right, because Bintu would take care of her, I was sure.

  Fatu and I hung out with each other until a little after midnight. I had gotten tired, so I was ready to go home and hit the sack. He tried to convince me to stay a little longer, but I declined the offer.

  “Well, can I take you out for breakfast in the morning?”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a rain check on that, because I have a few clients coming in bright and early.”

  “Well, what about lunch?”

  “What time are you talking about?”

  “Maybe noon, or one o’clock.”

  “I’ll let you know.” I got up to leave.

  He walked me back through the club so I could let Nikki know that I was about to leave. When I got halfway across the dance floor I noticed her at the bar in a deep conversation with Bintu. I told her I was about to leave, and she acted as if she didn’t care. I wished her a safe drive home and left.

  Outside the nightclub I gave Fatu a warm hug and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him once again for everything. He returned my kiss—a wet one, smack dab in the middle of my forehead—and told me to call him as soon as I reached home.

  Welcome to America

  (Nikki Speaks)

  Kira must’ve been crazy if she thought I was going to leave with her while I was in the middle of a deep conversation. Shit, I was trying to get in good with this guy, and she was trying to fuck it up. She fucked up my relationship with Syncere because she couldn’t keep her damn mouth closed, but I’d be damned if I let her come between this one. It wasn’t going to happen. After her hating ass left, Bintu and I called it a night. He invited me to go back to his place, and I jumped at the opportunity. If Kira was around she’d try to talk me out of going, but I was a grown-ass woman. If I chose to spend the night at this man’s house and let him fuck my brains out, then so be it. I could take care of myself and I was going to make sure that she saw that.

  Before we left the club, Bintu had a few things he needed to take care of, so I went outside and waited in my car. It took him about fifteen minutes to bring his ass outside. He and another guy stumbled out the side door of the nightclub, dragging a third guy by his neck. My heart stopped. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Bintu slapped the third man around while his partner held him. “Don’t ever let that shit happen again! You understand me?” I heard him say.

  The slapped guy nodded. Before they let him walk off, Bintu slapped him around a few more times and then took his wallet. The guy looked pitiful and I was starting to feel sorry for him. It became apparent that he had owed Bintu some dough and probably took a long time to pay him back, so my sympathy quickly wore off and I started cheering Bintu on inside my mind, thinking, Yeah baby, don’t let that nigga take advantage of you. Set that nigga straight! I caught myself making hand movements too, like I was the one doing the slapping. Finally Bintu let the guy go, excused his partner, and brushed off his clothing before walking over to my car. He smiled at me like nothing happened. I played it off and smiled back.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’m ready.” He looked at my car strangely. “Wasn’t this car red last night?” he asked.

  “That was Kira’s car. We got the same car. They’re just different colors.”

  “Nice. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Well, follow me.” I waited for him to pull off in his Benz, then I followed.

  The drive to Bintu’s place only took us ten minutes. I was glad that we didn’t have to drive very far. I smiled even more when I looked up and saw that we were in line for valet parking at the Uptown Galleria building. That building was filled with luxury apartments on every floor, and from what I’d heard, they cost a minimum of $1.5 million. If Bintu owned one of those apartments in that building, then he was richer than I’d thought.

  As soon as we entered the building, we took the elevator to the top floor, which was the penthouse suite. When the elevator doors opened, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. The smoke gray, marble floors that led to Bintu’s apartment door were immaculate and beautiful, but the artwork on the walls looked like something you’d see in a magazine. There was no doubt
in my mind that they were very expensive pieces. I noticed a mini-video camera positioned right over the entryway of the apartment door, and I knew that Bintu had this floor on lock.

  He unlocked the door with his keycard. “After you,” he said, and followed me into the apartment. “Give me one second and I’ll be with you.” He walked over to the alarm control panel on the wall and keyed in his code to disarm the system. He turned on the lights and escorted me through the foyer to the living room area, which was huge with tall windows that gave a spectacular view of the water wall, Greenway Plaza, and the entire downtown area of Houston. “Have a seat and I’ll be right back.” He left the room.

  I sat down on this beautiful black microfiber sofa that had a multicolored African throw draped across the middle of it, and took a glance around the entire place. The apartment was on two levels and arranged in a circular shape. All of the floors were beige marble trimmed in gold. I could also see the loft and the spiral staircase that led to it. In the loft area there was a library overlooking the living room. There were also four steel beams holding up the landing for the second floor, with a fireplace built into the walls of both floors, which I thought was really hot. What really topped off the whole place was the kitchen area. It was gorgeous with granite countertops, a breakfast bar, and the same gold-trimmed beige marble floors. Old-fashioned pots and pans hung from an iron rack that was suspended from the ceiling, right over the island. That was really nice. The faucet set in gold was something I thought I would never see inside a bachelor’s house. It spoke volumes to me and made me realize that this man was definitely a keeper.