The Queen's Diamond Read online

  I snapped my neck at her. Why was she putting me on blast? I looked at him to see what he was about to say. His eyes danced all over my body, as if she wasn’t sitting in front of him, getting rubbed down with sunblock. I gave him a dirty look when our eyes met.

  He smirked, “She cool, but with that attitude, she ain’t gone make no money.”

  Mina burst into laughter.

  I rolled my eyes, lay on the beach towel, using my purse as my pillow, put my sunglasses on, and sipped my shake. I wasn’t about to be bothered by them.

  Mina said, “Montego should really be here.”

  “I don’t want to be around him today.”

  “Hmmm. Well, if y’all gone be together and you decide to dance with me, you gotta tell him. If he ain’t with it, you gotta dump his ass for good. Too many bitches up in there let these niggas beat they asses ’cause they all in they feelings about them dancin’.”

  I sighed and sipped. Mina was acting like I had said I would do it. I hadn’t said yes or no.

  “Look, don’t act like you don’t need a job,” she said.

  “Mina, I said I’ll check it out. I gotta think about it, you know?”

  “Okay. I’ll shut the fuck up. You’ll love it, though.”

  I took a deep breath and tried my best not to think about it, but all I could think about was how I would look dancing naked. The thought freaked me out.

  3

  DESIRE

  The Queen’s Diamond

  I ain’t about to lie. Walking into the Queen of Diamonds for the first time had my heart racing. It was much like the feeling I had had when I watched porn for the first time at sixteen. I’d never forget when I saw a dick for the first time on-screen. My very first scene was a white housewife giving the plumber head. Then I had started waiting until my parents went to bed to watch Porn Hub. It was like it had felt good to watch and please myself, but I had always felt dirty and guilty. That guilt was what I felt walking up in Queen’s. First, we weren’t old enough to even be up in there. The age limit was twenty-one.

  On our way there, Mina had handed me an ID and said, “For the record, I’m twenty-one, and so are you.”

  I’d stared at the ID and frowned. “Uh-uh. This Spanish lady looks nothing like me.”

  “They ain’t gonna ask for it, but just in case they do, that’s you.”

  I had shaken my head. She’d already made sure my tits were sitting up and were exposed in a tight-fitting black minidress. She had also told me to make sure my makeup was extra heavy. I had done what I was told so that I wouldn’t stand out awkwardly.

  We had got there a little after 10:00 p.m. I wasn’t sure what Queen of Diamonds ever expected to go down there, but whatever it was, they were prepared for anything and everything shady. Men and women security guards were in vests, fully armed, as they stood at the front.

  Like Mina had said, they didn’t ask me for my ID. They let us go straight in, and it could be because I was with her. This place was fuckin’ huge. The bar area was larger than any bar I’d ever seen. Though it was early, it was packed. We passed so many VIP sections, they seemed endless. Mina found me a seat near the front of the stage.

  “Enjoy the show. Zay should be here soon. Save this spot for him,” she told as I sat down.

  I nodded, without words, and she left me sitting there alone. I tried not to look around nervously, but I couldn’t hide my emotions. I was like a fish out of water. The music was pumping so hard that I could feel it throughout my entire body. There were some dancers onstage, doing what looked like magic tricks. I felt like I was watching some Cirque du Soleil shit. I looked up, and damn, I had never before seen a pole long enough to reach heaven. That was how tall the pole was. A chick climbed to the very top, and it seemed like she was climbing forever, and then slid all the way down. She blew my mind.

  Everything Mina had prepped me for about Queen of Diamonds was right on target. These bitches were some of the baddest bitches, and they smelled so good. I was expecting the place to smell like straight hot booty and fishy coochie, but nope, they were on their shit. They were thick, curvy, and talented. I relaxed more and more by the second.

  Five minutes later, my phone started vibrating. I dug my phone out of my purse. It was Montego blowing me up. I rolled my eyes and stared at the screen as his call went to voicemail.

  I sent him a text: What nigga? I’m busy.

  Montego: I just wanted to tell you Happy Birthday. I see you on Instagram, lookin’ good.

  Me: Well, you wouldn’t have to look at me on Instagram if your ass had shown up at the beach. It’s over. We’re done.

  Montego: Like that?

  I couldn’t believe this nigga was hitting me up now, when I had only two hours left of my birthday. The fuck? I angrily tossed my phone into my purse. I was not about to let him ruin what was left of my day.

  Before Mina could hit the stage, someone sat in the seat I was saving for Zay and said with a Southern drawl, “What ya fine ass doin’ up here by yourself?”

  I looked over at the man in shades. His skin was the color of a caramel candy. His hair was faded into these thick-ass ocean waves on the top, and his facial hair was well groomed into a shadow beard. He was smoking a fat blunt. I couldn’t see his eyes behind those shades, so I continued to look at him from head to toe. He was tall, close to six feet, which I liked. Wearing nothing but designer everything, he had bundles of cash in his hands. He wore a thick gold chain with the diamond-encrusted letters MB, and he had a fully iced Rolex on his wrist. He was built strong and had broad shoulders, as if he worked out daily.

  When he smiled, a pair of the deepest dimples made me swoon instantly.

  Who is this fine-ass muthafucka right here? I thought to myself.

  “Um, excuse me, but this seat is taken,” I said, remembering I was supposed to save it for Zay.

  “Huh?” he asked, leaning his ear toward my mouth. His cologne was overpowering but smelled delightful at the same time. “I can’t hear you, baby. Speak up.”

  “I . . . I said this seat is taken.”

  “I know. It’s taken by me.” He blew out smoke in the opposite direction.

  “No, for real, for real. My friend is comin’.”

  “I’ll move when she gets here. Till then, this my seat.” He paused to stare at me through his shades. “This ya first time, huh?”

  I didn’t say yes or no. “My girl is dancin’ tonight, and I’m just here to see her.”

  “Ya girl girl or ya girlfriend?”

  I scowled. “Nah, I don’t roll like that. My patna.”

  “A’ight, li’l mama. You got a sweet Spanish accent. You Latin?”

  “Yeah, half Cuban.”

  “Cubana. I dig it . . .” He licked his lips and inhaled his weed.

  I thought I would choke from the smoke, but the ventilation was really good in this place. I looked around, and a lot of people were smoking.

  Zay walked up a few minutes later, but as soon as he saw who was sitting next to me, he stood at the end of the stage instead of trying to nab his seat. Zay looked like he knew exactly who this guy was and wanted no parts of him. His reaction had me looking more intently at this fine stranger.

  “Is that ya nigga?” he asked, nodding his head toward Zay.

  “Nah, that’s my girl’s boyfriend. That’s his seat I was saving.”

  “Hmmm,” he said but didn’t move. “I think I know ya girl. Exxxotic.”

  “Who?” I was confused, but then I paused because I remembered Mina telling me she had a stage name. She had said it so fast that I had forgotten it. “Oh yeah, Exxxotic.”

  “She’s up next, I think.” He removed his shades to reveal his deep, dark, and sexy eyes. He was even finer without the shades. There was something about the way he licked his lips that had me staring at him.

  I couldn’t stop staring. He had the kind of face that stopped you dead in your tracks. Those eyes were looking through me as if he had X-ray vision. I guessed he mi
ght’ve been used to my kind of reaction, because he didn’t seem surprised that I was staring at him that way. It was as if a woman’s intense gaze was an everyday thing for him. Once I realized he was staring at me the same way, I felt my face grow hot. I was blushing so damn hard.

  “You drink?” he questioned.

  I shook my head coolly. “I don’t drink, but I am thirsty.”

  “Whaaa?” He looked like he ain’t ever heard anyone say that. “A’ight, well, mo’ fa me.” He motioned to the topless waitress who was walking by, and she walked up to him. “Bring me Henny with a li’l ice, and bring her a . . .”

  “Can I have a Sprite?” I said.

  The waitress nodded and walked to the bar.

  I looked around to see if he was rollin’ solo, but I couldn’t tell. There were people everywhere. He seemed like a very private person, and he had that godly thing about him, like he had superhuman powers. I knew instantly that I wanted to experience them firsthand.

  “What’s ya name?” he asked.

  “Desirae. And you are?”

  “Luxury.”

  I blinked hard because I had heard of him around the city. I also should’ve realized he looked familiar, and it dawned on me that I had seen him on social media. Now that he was in front of me in the flesh, I could see that this nigga didn’t fake it for the Gram. He was everything he put out there. I was already following him on Instagram and Twitter.

  “As in Luxury like the Monnahan Boyz?”

  He nodded. “The one and only, baby.”

  One of the biggest dope boys was sitting in my face. He stayed flexin’ online, flashing his money and cars. Bitches stayed trying to holler at him, leaving the craziest thirsty-ass comments.

  “Oh, okay. I follow you on Instagram,” I revealed.

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah.”

  He pulled out his phone. “What’s your name on there?”

  “Desi_Rae.”

  He found me on Instagram and hit the FOLLOW button. “I’m following you now.”

  I nodded, trying to play it cool, but on the inside, I was too excited.

  Just then, the waitress brought his Henny and my Sprite with a slice of lime.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No problem,” she said.

  As I took a sip of my Sprite, the DJ announced, “Coming up to the stage . . . You playas better get yo’ money out right now. Make some noise for ya girl Exxxotic.”

  I slowly turned my eyes to the stage. I did a double take because my best friend was giving me so much life in her white outfit, which hugged her body in all the right places. She looked so beautiful and sexy that she took my breath away.

  Luxury sat his drink on the cocktail table on the other side of his seat, and his money started raining all over that stage. My jaw dropped, because other niggas were following his lead. I drank my Sprite as I watched in awe. Mina peeled off her clothes layer by layer. The more clothes that came off, the more money that flowed.

  “You act like you ain’t never seen this much money befo’,” he uttered.

  “I haven’t,” I admitted.

  He put one of his fat stacks in my hand and replied, “Show ya girl some love.”

  My hands were shaking as I put my glass down near my chair. I didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed to toss the money like in the music videos, let the bills fall one by one, or stuff some into Mina’s G-string? Now Mina was rolling her body, popping her ass, doing pussy poppin’, and executing shit I didn’t think she could do. I was so impressed. I looked around at how everyone else was tossing money on the stage, and I imitated them.

  “That’s it, baby,” Luxury said with a chuckle.

  I loved the way his voice sounded when he called me baby. I wanted him to call me baby forever.

  I continued to look around, and all I could see was ass, ass, and mo’ ass, cash and mo’ cash. Mina danced as if she wanted every bitch and nigga up in there to feel her presence. She demanded their attention, and she got it. She didn’t give a fuck, and I wanted to be just like her. I was craving that attention she was getting from Luxury. My breathing became heavier as my nipples started getting hard. I was turned on. Watching one of Queen’s diamonds had me ready to jump on that stage at once.

  Once her routine was over, Mina hurried over to us and said to Luxury, “You know it’s my girl’s birthday, right?”

  I tried not to blush while his eyes gazed at me as if I was a treat he couldn’t wait to taste.

  “Is that right? Happy Birthday, li’l mama.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You thinkin’ ’bout getting up there like ya girl?” he asked as Mina waved at us and then dashed to the other side of the stage. He was paying close attention to the fascination in my eyes.

  “Hell yeah,” I said without giving it much thought. I watched for Luxury’s reaction to see if he liked that idea, but I couldn’t read him.

  “Hmmm . . . I got the perfect name for you if you do.” He rubbed his hands together.

  “You do? What’s that?” I asked.

  “Desire.”

  “Desire? That sounds too much like my actual name.”

  “I know, and that’s why it’s perfect. You’ll have every nigga wantin’ or, better yet, wishin’ they were yo’ nigga.”

  The way he said it made me wonder if he was wanting or wishing he could be my nigga. I liked the way the name Desire sounded as it left his lips. It was the perfect play on my name. I nodded, all while imagining what my life would be like if I made this kind of cash.

  For much of the night, I sat back and watched Mina work the room for lap dances. The few times she disappeared into what they called champagne rooms, Luxury and I carried on a conversation.

  “Hey, come with me to VIP,” Luxury said into my ear when Mina finished her last lap dance.

  “Okay.”

  I followed him through the crowd to the section that was for exclusive people only. Men and women were acknowledging Luxury as they passed us. Everyone loved him; they were drawn to him. I took note of the way they hung on his every word, as if he was the alpha and the omega. They wanted to be close to him, just like I did. If he wanted to, he could have more friends than hours in the day, but he told me that he chose to keep his circle small. According to him, his brothers, Frill and Lavish, were the only ones he trusted.

  He told me a lot about himself that night. At twenty-two years old, he was a natural thug, though he considered himself to be a businessman. Luxury had made a name for himself sellin’ drugs in the streets, but he wanted to be done with that. He had dreams of being at the top of the music industry. In fact, he proclaimed himself to be the next Birdman in terms of leaving the drug game alone and running an independent record label. I loved that about him. I could see him doing everything he dreamed of.

  I honestly thought he would get my number that night, but he didn’t ask for it or hint about it, which had me in my feelings. He wound up leaving the club without my digits.

  As we left the strip club, Mina walked beside me, her hand on my shoulder, as Zay followed behind us, smoking a cigarette.

  “Girl, don’t even trip. If you start working here, you’ll see Luxury all the time. He’s a regular,” she said.

  I hoped so, because I was infatuated with him already.

  “When can I start?” I asked her.

  “You can audition tomorrow night.”

  4

  DESIRE

  2015 – Twenty-One and Lovin’ It

  For three years, I became many men’s and women’s desire, especially once I upgraded my body. I enhanced my breasts to a full, luscious D cup and had my ass shaped like a ripe peach by the best plastic surgeon in the city, one of the best investments I could’ve ever made. The money just flowed right on in like water. Everybody loved my new body. I changed my social media account names to DesireHer. My Instagram and Twitter stayed on fire. Niggas were hopping into my DMs on Twitter left and right. It got to a point
where I couldn’t read them all.

  Once I started averaging four thousand a night, I was feeling myself. I moved out of Mina’s spot, which was getting too crowded with all her uncles and brothers always needing somewhere to stay. My new place wasn’t in the best neighborhood, but on the inside, it was plush, and it was all mine.

  Renting was cool, but my dream was to own. Before long I had the money to put a down payment on my dream penthouse overlooking South Beach, but they were talking about I didn’t have the credit. Who needed credit when I had money? It didn’t make sense to me. Mina had told me to get a man, so he could buy me a house in his name. But I didn’t need a nigga to do shit for me.

  I hated niggas that thought that every bitch needed their name on shit in order for her to have anything in life. These niggas stayed flexin’, and when they figured out you really didn’t need them for shit, they started talking to you crazy. I wasn’t impressed by any nigga, because I could do everything for myself.

  Since the day my mom had kicked me out, I hadn’t talked to her. I had called to see about my dad, but once my mom had found out I was working at Queen’s, she’d wanted him to disown me. Papi loved me too much to cut me all the way off, so we would meet up for lunch whenever he could. My papi’s love for me would never die. I couldn’t trip on my mom, because she had hated me since birth.

  Papi wanted me to go back to school and get a GED. He even prayed that I went to church with him, but for what? I was a stripper, yes, but that didn’t make me a bad person, right? Why did I need to go to church? And why did I need to go back to school? I had been dancing since I was eighteen, had been saving my bread since then. Three years of stacking. I had niggas and bitches traveling to Miami to watch me and shower me with cash. They loved me, so quitting was out.

  Dancing wasn’t just a job to me; it was fun, and it gave me so much joy. I took a shot of liquor here and there, but I wasn’t into drugs like the other girls. Dancing gave me a natural high. I admitted that I wasn’t the friendly type with those bitches up in Queen’s. I didn’t befriend any bitches up there, because I didn’t trust them hoes. I had watched too many of them get into fights over stupid gossip. Mina was the only one I wanted in my corner. She kept all my secrets.