swiftly. “Take it all off,” she instructed, not even giving me a chance to respond. “You can’t walk around like that anymore. I have some things for you.”
She opened the bedroom door and reached for something outside. A big white bag filled with clothes was pulled inside; while she tossed a black low cut shirt my way and some matching Capri pants. My jaw hung low as I watched her pull out sets of provocative, sluttish outfits from the bag. I just stood there, wondering when the bottom was near. Unfortunately for me, none of it was my style of clothing.
“ Take it all off now,” she said again in a louder voice, and headed toward the small closet off to the side. She took a moment, rummaging through the different keys, in search of the right one. “Finally,” she said, with a heavy sigh.
“ Who’s clothes are these?” I asked with a frown.
She ignored the shit outta me. When Ms. Dottie unlocked the door, I thought I was in the Macy’s shoe department. Lines of shoes, ranging in all sizes, stared me in the face. “And wear these today for weekly meeting.”
The black three-inch stilletto’s she handed me was perfect for hitting the streets in search of a buck. I gritted my teeth and hesitantly slid them on. I stood in the middle of the floor with underwear, a push up bra that accented my young, perky breasts, and stilettos to add that extra height, listening to instruction after instruction.
“ Now, get dressed, someone is coming to your room in a few minutes.”
I formed a blank expression on my face. Everything was happening so fast, I didn’t think to ask who. I just listened.
“ The meeting is in the showroom and starts at noon, sharp . That’s not nigga noon. It’s 12:00 p.m., one minute after 11:59 a.m. You understand?” Ms. Dottie paced the floor like a militant soldier. “You looking at me like you’re a little slow.” She waited for a response, but I didn’t give one.
“ You have a hair appointment with Claude, the house hairstylist at one o’clock today, and a nail appointment at two. Remember, keep yourself looking good at all times…you never know when Big Money will show up. Always be prepared for an opportunity,” she added. “Oh…and most importantly, when you get downstairs today, leave your snobbish attitude right here.”
“ Me?” I pointed at myself in shock.
“ Moving right along.”
I was starting to realize that’s what she said when she was done with the conversation. “No problem,” I responded. “I may need some help with the computer when I get downstairs. Is there a password?”
“ Make friends. Ask one of the girls,” she smirked. “I’m not a computer tech, but they will determine whether you make it around here or not.”
Damn , I thought. She’s rougher than I expected . My plan was to be cordial, but new friends I didn’t need. I’d already decided that I was gonna be sociable and make the best of my situation. I’d even practiced my fake smile in the mirror when I first got up.
“ That’s it,” Ms. Dottie said, placing a big check on the paper in front of her. “Now…” A double knock at the door interrupted her words. “I guess he’s here.” She looked at me kinda funny. “No need to get dressed now. On the bed and spread ‘em.” She grinned widely.
No…you…can’t be serious? I thought . Not this soon. What if this guy asked for something I wasn’t willing to do? Would I be out on the streets my first full day here?
The door swung open and a tall, attractive, slender man in his late fifties walked inside. His salt and pepper beard stood out. Distinguished , I thought. Reminded me of one of my uncles. He pulled his leather briefcase that was on wheels, as he walked into the room, and adjusted the suit jacket hanging over his shoulder. Although he seemed a bit arrogant, he smiled a pleasant smile, like we’d met each other before. When he extended his hand, I didn’t even shake it. Nervously, I wondered what
She opened the bedroom door and reached for something outside. A big white bag filled with clothes was pulled inside; while she tossed a black low cut shirt my way and some matching Capri pants. My jaw hung low as I watched her pull out sets of provocative, sluttish outfits from the bag. I just stood there, wondering when the bottom was near. Unfortunately for me, none of it was my style of clothing.
“ Take it all off now,” she said again in a louder voice, and headed toward the small closet off to the side. She took a moment, rummaging through the different keys, in search of the right one. “Finally,” she said, with a heavy sigh.
“ Who’s clothes are these?” I asked with a frown.
She ignored the shit outta me. When Ms. Dottie unlocked the door, I thought I was in the Macy’s shoe department. Lines of shoes, ranging in all sizes, stared me in the face. “And wear these today for weekly meeting.”
The black three-inch stilletto’s she handed me was perfect for hitting the streets in search of a buck. I gritted my teeth and hesitantly slid them on. I stood in the middle of the floor with underwear, a push up bra that accented my young, perky breasts, and stilettos to add that extra height, listening to instruction after instruction.
“ Now, get dressed, someone is coming to your room in a few minutes.”
I formed a blank expression on my face. Everything was happening so fast, I didn’t think to ask who. I just listened.
“ The meeting is in the showroom and starts at noon, sharp . That’s not nigga noon. It’s 12:00 p.m., one minute after 11:59 a.m. You understand?” Ms. Dottie paced the floor like a militant soldier. “You looking at me like you’re a little slow.” She waited for a response, but I didn’t give one.
“ You have a hair appointment with Claude, the house hairstylist at one o’clock today, and a nail appointment at two. Remember, keep yourself looking good at all times…you never know when Big Money will show up. Always be prepared for an opportunity,” she added. “Oh…and most importantly, when you get downstairs today, leave your snobbish attitude right here.”
“ Me?” I pointed at myself in shock.
“ Moving right along.”
I was starting to realize that’s what she said when she was done with the conversation. “No problem,” I responded. “I may need some help with the computer when I get downstairs. Is there a password?”
“ Make friends. Ask one of the girls,” she smirked. “I’m not a computer tech, but they will determine whether you make it around here or not.”
Damn , I thought. She’s rougher than I expected . My plan was to be cordial, but new friends I didn’t need. I’d already decided that I was gonna be sociable and make the best of my situation. I’d even practiced my fake smile in the mirror when I first got up.
“ That’s it,” Ms. Dottie said, placing a big check on the paper in front of her. “Now…” A double knock at the door interrupted her words. “I guess he’s here.” She looked at me kinda funny. “No need to get dressed now. On the bed and spread ‘em.” She grinned widely.
No…you…can’t be serious? I thought . Not this soon. What if this guy asked for something I wasn’t willing to do? Would I be out on the streets my first full day here?
The door swung open and a tall, attractive, slender man in his late fifties walked inside. His salt and pepper beard stood out. Distinguished , I thought. Reminded me of one of my uncles. He pulled his leather briefcase that was on wheels, as he walked into the room, and adjusted the suit jacket hanging over his shoulder. Although he seemed a bit arrogant, he smiled a pleasant smile, like we’d met each other before. When he extended his hand, I didn’t even shake it. Nervously, I wondered what
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