When she was done with me, Nina said good-bye and left the hotel. I took a quick shower and went downstairs where Bobby was outside waiting for me in the car. When I got in the car, Bobby shook his head and started laughing. “What?”
“You a greedy man,” Bobby said.
I laughed too. “You’re right. I’m a greedy man.” It was the name of an old James Brown song that we picked up because it fit us. “Now, brother, don’t-” we both sang. “Leave-your homework undone.” We both laughed as he drove away.
“Tell ’em one more time,” Bobby said. “Now, brother, don’t-leave-your homework undone,” we both sang. But instead of thinking about what I had just done with Nina, my mind was on Jada West.
Jada West
What to do about Mike Black?
Now that is a man. Every time I see him, every time he parts those sexy lips, every time he says Ms. West, he makes me want to forget about everything, and I become his personal sex slave. And believe me, sex is something I know about. Sex is how I make my living. After spending more time than I care to admit, lying on my back with my legs in the air, I realized that the real money was in being the one who arranged for other woman to lie on their backs with their legs in the air. To me, sex is just another way to make money. The day I left Sasha, my old madam, I handed her two thousand dollars. That day I decided to get on the money-making end of that equation. In my new world, I created the women who were lying on their backs with their legs in the air working for me. They walked the way that I did, talked the way I told them to talk and they dressed and conducted themselves the way I said a lady should. The day I became the madam was the last time I had sex. But I have to say, Mike Black would be the man to change all that. I remember the first time I saw him.
“Jada!”
“What?” I asked.
“Are you listening to me?” Jenna asked.
I looked at her and smiled. “To be honest with you, Jenna, no I wasn’t.”
“At least you’re honest about it,” Jenna said and walked off. I sat for a second thinking about Jenna and how rude I’d just been to her, and I planned to apologize to her the first chance I got. I didn’t want to lose her because I knew that Jenna Bobbit had the potential to be a big earner for me.
I met her at a fashion show that was given by Pierre Preston, one of the city’s hot, new designers. That evening I wore an Akris Punto silk, long-sleeve jacket with a notched collar, three-button close front patch pockets, and satin piping. And Jimmy Choo clue leather platform snipped, peep toe slingbacks. I was sitting next to a makeup artist called Tommy Rome, when I caught my first glimpse of Jenna. One of the models had broken a heel and was limping badly trying to get off stage. Jenna came out and helped her out. “I haven’t seen her on stage tonight,” I said to Tommy.