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.
“She’s not a model. Not anymore,” he said. Tommy went on to explain how Jenna was a hot property when she was sixteen and seventeen. But her body matured after she turned eighteen. Her breasts got fuller, her hips spread, and she got some butt. “She got fat, honey,” Tommy said. “You know these Nancy’s like these girls to be skinny as a rail.”
I looked at the model that was walking across the stage in front of me. “Practically anorexic,” I commented.
“I’m sayin’: that one is all skin and bones,” Tommy agreed. “Anyway. When Jenna couldn’t drop the weight, she was a has-been as a model. Now she dresses them.”
“I want to meet her.”
Tommy introduced us that night, I gave her my card, and after I assured her that I wasn’t a lesbian trying to pick her up, we agreed to meet for dinner the following evening. I arrived dressed in a Proenza Schouler one- shoulder bubble dress with an asymmetrical neckline wrapped along the waist’s bubble hem; Proenza Schouler wedge ankle boots; and a 24-carat diamond ring with earrings to match, and a diamond-studded watch. As we talked about her former modeling career over dinner, I could tell that she was looking at the diamonds. I was purposely vague when she asked what I did for a living. I told her that I did recruiting and training, and that seemed to satisfy her for the moment.
I spoke with her daily for the next couple of days. Nothing more than “Hi, how’s it going,” and some idle chit-chat. Then I called her early one morning and asked if she wanted to go to a party with me. “Really, Jada.”
“Really, Jenna. But this is a very upscale affair and I don’t mean to be rude, but do you have an evening gown?”
“No,” Jenna said and sounded dejected.
I told her that I would pick her up in an hour and we spent the day shopping. I bought her a Carmen Marc Valvo ruched-satin cocktail dress with a sexy double V-neck to wear that evening. Along with Jimmy Choo lance- mirrored sandals and a clutch bag to match. That night at the party, Jenna asked me again what I did for a living, but before I could answer, she said, “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you do, Jada, I want to be a part of it.”
So I told her what I did, what I would do for her, and what I wanted her to do. “Do you still want to be a part of it?” I asked.
Jenna looked me in the eyes. “When do we start?”
I brought Jenna in to replace my top earner and best friend, Diane. She was my top earner, male or female client didn’t matter, Diane put in the work. One afternoon, I was sitting around the apartment relaxing with Diane and we were talking about our increase in business. I had just offered her, her choice of the last three appointments that came in. “What times are they?”
I ran my finger down the appointment schedule on my laptop. “Uh, seven, ten, and a late night will call.”
“Jackson?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll take them all,” Diane said.
I remember the speech I gave that first night that the ladies got together. “The most important thing that I’m going to teach you is how to conduct yourselves in a ladylike manner in every situation. Elegant and classy, ladies, that is who you are at all times.” I stood up and moved to the middle of the living room. “I’m going to teach you how to walk, how to talk.” I looked at Diane and she rolled her eyes. “And how to dress and how to conduct yourself at any occasion. Knowing what to say and what not to say, will make your company more desirable and therefore requested on a regular basis.”
I thought back to the day Diane came running into my office and shoved her hand in my face. “I’m getting married!” she yelled and then danced around the room like she was in a conga line. “I’m getting married, Jada,” she said and once again shoved her hand in my face. This time I grabbed it and looked at the ring. It was a princess- shape Mark Broumand platinum 3.41 carat diamond ring.
“Isn’t it beautiful, Jada?”
“Yes, Diane it is.” Then I asked the question. “Who asked you to marry them?” The reason Diane was my top earner was because she worked all the time. I didn’t think she had time for a social life.
“Jackson.”
“Jackson? You don’t mean Jackson Ponder?” Now it made sense, Jackson Ponder was one of my better clients, and Diane had been his only choice for the last two years.
“He took me to his country club last night to meet his friend, and this morning he asked me to marry him.”
Now that the initial shock had worn off, I got up and hugged Diane. “I am so happy for you, Diane.” And I was. Jackson Ponder was a multibillionaire. “You’re getting married, and to a very rich man,” I said and hugged her again.
“Every hoe’s dream,” Diane laughed.
“So when is the big day?”
“In two weeks,” Diane said. “And I got something to ask you, Jada,” Diane said and took a step back.
“What’s that?”
“Would you be my maid of honor?” Diane looked at me. “Please say yes, Jada. You’re my best friend, my only real friend. I couldn’t get married without you standing next to me.”
“Of course I will, Diane. I’m honored that you asked.”
“I haven’t decided who I’m going to ask to be bridesmaids yet,” Diane said and I smiled.
“Why choose.”
“What do you do mean?”
“Why not have all of the ladies as your bridesmaids?” I suggested. You see, Jackson Ponder was rich-very rich-and that usually meant that all of his friends were rich too. I saw it as an opportunity to recruit some new clients.
Well, Jackson only agreed to three bridesmaids, but I gave everybody the afternoon off to go to Diane’s wedding. But as soon as the reception was over, everybody went back to work. And even though I told her that she didn’t have to, Diane kept working. In fact, the wedding was at four o’clock and she took her last client at one.
In a very short time, I planned a beautiful affair. Everything was wonderful. One of his groomsmen was already a client, and he was nice enough introduce me around. Before the night was over, I had seven new clients and three more that I thought had potential, but just didn’t get to because they left early. But I did get each of their business cards and promised that I would get back to them within the week for cocktails. It seemed that most, if not all of the men there, knew how he’d met Diane, and that made it easy.
I started to ask Mr. Black to be my escort for the evening, but I knew that if he was there, all I would want to do was, smile in face and giggle like a schoolgirl over every word that came out of his mouth, and offer him my body. As good as that sounded to me, I knew that the evening would be better spent speaking with potential new clients. Once again, my passion for Mr. Black would have to wait.
Chapter Six
Kirk
Either it way too early or I was getting too old for this shit. It wasn’t quite six-thirty in the morning yet, and I was on my way to a triple. As I approached the crime scene, I saw that there was a crowd formed around the perimeter that the uniforms had setup. “Wasn’t too early for them,” I said and parked the car.
I made my way through the crowd of onlookers and showed my badge as I went under the tape. The first person I saw coming toward me was narcotics’ lieutenant, Gene Sanchez. He was a good guy as far as cops go, and as far as cops go, he was a good cop.
“Morning, Kirk,” Sanchez said and looked around. “Where’s your partner? Off somewhere beating a suspect?”
