Lipstick Hustla Read online

  Sailor shook his head, as if Misty were an adorable brat. He returned his gaze to the monitor and then suddenly looked up. “Oh, did I tell you that Lennox called this morning?”

  “What now? Lennox is starting to get on my nerves. He’s so fuckin’ greedy. I gave him back-to-back work and he still wants more.”

  “That’s not why he called.”

  “Oh. What did he want?”

  “He said he convinced another dude from Uncle Marshall’s house to come work for you. When he gets here, I’ll take some shots of him.”

  “Hold up. Slow your roll. I need to look the dude over so I can figure out what kind of shots I want to take.”

  Sailor gave her a look. “I know what kind of shots to take. You said that I’m your right-hand man, so let me handle this for you. I guarantee that you’re going to love the pictures that I post.”

  In a split-second, Misty’s sour mood changed to joyous. “You’re gonna hook everything up and have the new recruit added to the roster? Yo, I’ma be making money off that mufucka before I even meet him?”

  “That’s the plan,” Sailor added with pride.

  “Wow! That’s whassup.” Misty dipped down and kissed him on the cheek.

  “You’re the man, Sailor. I’ll see you when I get back from my shopping spree.”

  Wearing a big smile, Misty sailed out of the apartment. Knowing that she was about to get her paper straight, she couldn’t decide whether she should go to the mall, look for a bigger apartment, or go buy herself a classier whip.

  With the jacked-up credit she had, she wouldn’t be able to get anything that required a payment plan. Hopefully, she’d find a fly whip that she could afford to purchase with cash.

  A new apartment would have to wait. Her public image was more important at this juncture.

  At a car dealership on Baltimore Pike in Springfield, she traded in her hooptie and bought herself another BMW X5. It cost her fourteen stacks, which she paid in cash. It was the same color as her previous X5, but this one was much newer than the one that no-good, dead-ass Dane had ruthlessly stolen from her.

  But no one could tell that this X5 wasn’t spanking brand-new. The body of this model didn’t change from year to year. The interior was in pristine condition and the exterior didn’t have a nick, dent, scratch, or any type of mark.

  Behind the wheel, she fiddled with buttons and knobs, quickly orienting herself to her new ride. When the radio came on, a Nicki Minaj song pumped through the speakers. As usual, Nicki was bragging through the song…talking mad shit. But Misty wasn’t even mad at that fake-ass Barbie bitch. Nothing and nobody could darken this sunshiny day.

  So what if she’d spent most of her cash on hand? The way she was slowly ripping off Uncle Freaky, it was merely a matter of time before the big bucks started pouring in. She continued fiddling with buttons and knobs until the sunroof slid back. A gentle breeze wafted through her hair.

  This was the beginning of a fabulous new life. She could feel it in the air.

  Feeling more relaxed and happier than she’d been in a long time, Misty steered the vehicle in the direction of Springfield Mall. The money she had left over was burning a hole in her pocketbook.

  With a plan in mind, she parked. Then she hit the alarm button on the X5 and whisked inside Macy’s for some serious shopping.

  CHAPTER 16

  Misty had been waiting for fifteen minutes when the 52 pulled up. The beat of her heart drummed erratically, and then picked up enormous speed. Despite the chill of the air conditioner, her face felt hot and flushed, and her skin had became moist and prickly when she’d seen him intermingled with the other passengers who were getting off the bus.

  Excited, she gazed at her reflection and fished inside her purse, searching for lipstick. Retrieving the sleek, expensive case, she applied a glossy cherry color to her lips. It was time for a showdown with this nigga. Talk some sense into his head.

  Guzzling a bottle of VitaminWater, hard hat on his head, tool belt hanging, Brick headed toward his home.

  Her mouth parted; a soft moan escaped. Hot-boiling yearning pooled between her legs. Misty squirmed in her seat.

  Brick was walking with that same confident swagger he’d had at the hospital. Brick had become a very self-assured man. A knot of resentment tightened in her chest.

  With her new whip pointed in his direction, Misty watched him. Despite the fact that Brick was frontin’, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a more desirable sight. As he grew closer, she could see beads of perspiration trickling down his arms and over his massive biceps. Oh, Brick!

  Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips. Butterflies flitted in her stomach. Then she rolled her eyes at him, feeling both excited and vexed at the same time. Look at this mufucka…strutting down the damn block like he running shit.

  He passed by without even noticing her. She beeped the horn. He turned around. Spotting Misty, Brick gave a look of recognition. He didn’t appear to be impressed by her new ride, but there was something in his eyes…something hard to distinguish. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn that she saw pity in his eyes.

  “What’s good, Misty?” Brick said without emotion or any mention of the X5.

  This bus-riding, jealous-ass nigga getting on my nerves already, tryna act new.

  “Is my mom home? I picked up some gifts for my little brother.” She motioned toward the back seat, which was crowded with bags from Macy’s, The Children’s Place, and Toys R Us.

  “Looks like you went a little overboard for my son,” he said with a chuckle that held a trace of pride.

  The sound of Brick’s laughter gave Misty hope. “Your son is a part of me, too, Brick.” She gave him a long look. Making a baby with her mother was the ultimate betrayal. The two people she’d trusted most in the world had stabbed her in the back and turned the knife.

  Her eyes clouded. “Nothing’s too good for my blood,” she said softly, trying not to choke up.

  Brick eyed her closely, as if checking for deception in her eyes, but Misty hid her ulterior motives behind a pool of tears.

  “Your mom’s not home right now. She took the baby to his doctor’s appointment. But I can take the bags,” he said in a firm, cool voice. He reached for the handle of the back door.

  This wasn’t in the script. Misty had planned on visiting for a while. She wanted to get inside the house and secretly observe Brick. While her dumb mother gushed over the expensive gifts, Misty intended to search for signs of Brick’s boredom. Brick was a freak. She knew how he liked to get down. He had to be bored with her mother by now. That bitch was home on disability. She allegedly had complications after giving birth. Lazy hoe. Brick knew good and well that he missed her tight coochie. Nigga couldn’t be feeling shit when he pushed his dick inside her mother’s baby-birthing, loose-ass pussy walls.

  Thomasina could not compete with Misty’s bedroom skills. Misty had always kept Brick sexually stimulated with the dirty words and the raunchy scenarios she whispered in his ear while they were fucking. And she didn’t just talk good game, either. She did everything within her power to allow Brick to live out the sexual fantasies that she put in his head.

  “Hey, Brick,” she said, smiling. “I had a dream about Shane the other night. About the three of us. You know…the way we used to be. I still miss him.” She gazed at Brick. Speaking softly, she said, “Nobody understood Shane except me and you.”

  Brick grunted in displeasure and contorted his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Why you always bringing up Shane? I wish you’d let that man rest in peace. The life that nigga was living wasn’t no good for him or nobody else. He was hurting inside. And for that reason, he couldn’t help from hurting everybody who loved him—including you and me.”

  “I know, but I was thinking about the good times.”

  “Wasn’t no good times, Misty. We were three weed heads, staying high and always looking for a quick come-up.”

 
“We were young, Brick. Three kids doing what we could to make our hustle official. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

  “Whatever,” Brick said disgustedly. “Shane was in a dark place back then. Now my man is standing in the light. I believe in letting the past stay where it belongs. Y’ah mean? It would be wise for you to do the same.”

  Who dis nigga think he is? Half-retarded mufucka knows he’s outta pocket. He needs to check himself. Tryna sound all wise all of a sudden. He’s kicking it like he got some book smarts. I don’t know who he been listening to, but he can kiss my ass. Since when does Brick give me any goddamn advice?

  She felt rage building inside her. She wanted to scream profanities and slap the shit out of Brick. But she clenched her teeth, suppressing boiling anger by taking a deep breath.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Misty agreed. Though it was killing her to have to suck up to Brick, she had no choice. That saying, “there’s a thin line between love and hate,” was proving true. She hated the smug expression on Brick’s face. But wanted to fuck his brains out for turning out to be all hot and sexy. Damn, this shit was confusing. Absolutely ridiculous.

  She wasn’t used to caving in for anybody…and certainly not for Brick. Fuck! She was the mastermind in their relationship. She’d started schooling him back when they were kids. Now he had his head up her mother’s ass, trying to act like he had grown his own set of big balls. Ungrateful bastard.

  To be a pervert mufucka, he sure had some nerve…acting all opinionated and arrogant. Brick used to be so whipped he would bow down and sniff Misty’s coochie if he thought she’d been out cheating. Freaky mufucka used to get off by trying to catch a whiff of another man’s scent.

  His cocky attitude was her mother’s fault. That bitch was blowing up his dome. Making him think he was somebody special. Never in his entire life had anyone cooked, cleaned, or catered to Brick.

  Somebody needed to whip her mother’s ass for doting on him. Brick was a good damn man gone bad. Fuck!

  Misty used a different ploy. “Remember that Betty Boop apron you used to like to wear?” she asked, hoping to arouse him with a kinky memory of his submissive tendencies.

  Brick snorted. “Yeah, I was a sick mufucka back then. Yo, it’s obvious that this is not a goodwill visit. So do me a favor…take all that shit you bought back to the store. I takes care of mine. My baby boy don’t want for nothing.”

  “I’m sorry, Brick. I was only tryna make you laugh. I didn’t mean—”

  Brick turned his back on her.

  With great regret, she watched him walk away from her, his broad shoulders dipping in defiance as he sauntered up the narrow walkway that led to his front door.

  She turned on the engine and gave Brick a long last look.

  It’s not over, Brick. We belong together. You need to be rolling hard with me, instead of fighting destiny.

  CHAPTER 17

  Brick heard the clatter of the stroller and rushed to the front door. He raced down to the pavement and unlocked the safety belt, and gripped up his son.

  “Baby boy. Baby boy! Daddy sure missed you!” Brick held the giggling child high in the air and gazed up at him lovingly.

  “Oh, ignore me like I’m not even standing here.” Pretending to be insulted, Thomasina let go of the handle of the empty stroller.

  “How’s my big girl doin’?” Brick moved next to his wife and kissed her on the cheek. He could see her eyes darting toward the nosey neighbors who were sitting on lawn chairs with their eyes fixated on the May-December couple.

  “I know you’re not worried about what they think,” Brick fussed.

  “Not at all,” Thomasina responded and then placed a kiss on her husband’s lips.

  Murmurs of discontent floated over to Thomasina and Brick. Obviously, the spectators would have found it more exciting to see Thomasina and Brick throwing punches at each other than to watch their public display of affection.

  Thomasina folded the stroller and began to tug it. Brick relieved her of the burden. Effortlessly, the big man picked up the stroller, looping the handle inside the crook of one arm, while hoisting the baby in the other.

  Inside their small living room, Thomasina sniffed the air. “Some- thing smells good.” She looked at Brick curiously.

  “Dinner’s cooking outside on the grill.”

  “Baron, you didn’t have to do that. You work outside all day…toiling under the burning sun. When you get home, you’re supposed to rest.”

  “Ain’t nothing wrong with a man cooking for his family every now and then.”

  “On the weekend, when you’ve had some rest,” she fussed.

  “Stop fussing. You love it when your man cooks for you.”

  Thomasina blushed. “Of course I do. But I don’t want you burning yourself out. I’m home all day; I’m supposed to take care of you.”

  “We’re supposed to take care of each other. Yo, I’m only twenty-five years old and I’m as healthy as a horse. Putting in a lil’ extra work ain’t gon’ burn me out. I like the fact that you can be home taking care of our son. I don’t want to turn him over to strangers. When your disability runs out, I’ma pick up some extra work.”

  “Baron,” Thomasina said, exasperated.

  “Real rap. You’ve been working all your life. It’s time for you to sit back and let your man take care of you.”

  Thomasina beamed.

  Brick set little Baron on the floor, but the child’s legs buckled in rebellion. He preferred being in his father’s arms, and refused to stand up.

  “You spoiled rotten, man,” Brick teased. “Come on.” He picked him up and kissed him. “If you gon’ hang with me, you gon’ have to learn how to cook. You feel me, man?”

  Tears still flowing, the baby nodded. “High-five!” Brick instructed. Giggling, the baby smacked his tiny palm against his father’s enormous hand.

  Thomasina looked at the two men in her life with love in her eyes. “I must have done something right,” Thomasina said.

  “Whatchu mean? Everything you do is right.”

  “No. I made a lot of mistakes in my life. But I must have done something right or I wouldn’t have ended up with a good man like you.”

  “It’s all you. Being with you is making me a better man.”

  Brick meant it. Thomasina was on extended disability and he didn’t want her to ever go back to work. Taking care of their son was all she needed to worry about.

  “Gotta check on my food,” he said and set little Baron on his feet. The baby cried and took steps toward Brick with his hands outstretched.

  In the enclosed and miniscule backyard, Brick let his son toddle around and play with the toys that were scattered about. Brick tended to the array of meats…chicken, salmon, burgers, hot dogs, and ribs.

  Watching her weight and blood pressure, Thomasina only ate chicken and fish, but Brick still got down with beef and pork.

  As he smothered barbecue sauce on the ribs, his strokes changed from gentle to heavy-handed and angry. What was his problem? Cooking on the grill was something he loved. It was soothing…a pleasurable experience that took away the tensions of the day. But his tension refused to budge and he noticed that he was taking out his frustration on the meat that he was smacking with the barbecue brush.

  Misty.

  Her unexpected visit had him on edge.

  He banged down the lid. The loud sound jolted the baby. Little Baron yelled.

  “My bad. Daddy didn’t mean to scare you. You aiight, man?”

  The young child was resilient and had quickly recovered from the loud noise. “Bird, Daddy.” Brick’s son pointed upward to a bird that was flying and then settled on the branch of a tree.

  “Where’d that bird go?” Brick asked his son.

  “In tree!” Little Baron screamed.

  “That’s right. Boy, you’re a genius,” Brick said with pride. Then his thoughts returned to Misty.

  Cooking usually took his mind off of his trouble
s, but today it wasn’t working.

  Brick didn’t like keeping secrets from his wife, but some things were best left unsaid. Misty did not have good intentions when she came to visit. No point in giving Thomasina false hope.

  Thomasina would have happily invited Misty to join them for dinner with the expectation that they could all coexist as a happy family.

  But Brick knew better. Misty wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d sabotaged their marriage. Destroyed their peaceful life.

  He sucked his teeth, recalling how he’d warned her to stay away from his family…in the hospital…right after his son was born.

  Her showing up today was a bold move. She had some kind of trick up her sleeve, and when Misty’s wheels started turning, it couldn’t mean anything but trouble. She’d relentlessly pursue whatever she wanted.

  Misty couldn’t dupe Brick. Not anymore. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to worm her way into their lives…getting to her mother when Brick wasn’t around.

  For most of his life, he’d loved Misty with all his heart. But now…

  Brick yanked up the lid of the grill. A cloud of smoke concealed the glowering mask of hatred that twisted his face as he imagined himself yanking Misty out of her whip and throwing her up against a brick wall the next time he caught her staked out anywhere near his house.

  CHAPTER 18

  Brick was stretched out on the bed, watching Any Given Sunday, an old flick with Pacino playing a tough coach. Jamie Foxx was featured as the quarterback for the team that Pacino was trying to lead to victory. Though nothing compared to his performance in Scarface, Brick enjoyed anything Pacino starred in. No, scratch that…he didn’t like the movie where Pacino played a blind dude who went around sniffing out pussy all the time. Pacino got props from Hollywood, but in Brick’s mind, he should have turned that role down. Playing a horny, blind dude wasn’t a cool move.

  Pacino and Jamie Foxx were going at it toe-to-toe when Thomasina came out of the shower and entered the bedroom. He caught a whiff of lavender bath gel.

  “You smell good,” Brick acknowledged, though engrossed in the film.