“Hey, doll face,” Bianca said.
“Hey, beautiful,” Yogi shot back.
“It’s Bianca from the bus station.”
“I know. You ready for that drink? I owe you.”
“Sure,” she said.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Girl, I have no plans as of yet. I truly need to get out.”
“Well, good. Come up to my job.”
“The strip club?” Bianca asked.
“Don’t say it like that. Trust me, it’s not what you think. The strip clubs down here are like clubs. It’s like a meeting spot. Trust me when I tell you it’s more than ass-shaking and pussy-popping going on in there. You’re going to be cool. I got you,” Yogi said.
“Umm, okay . . . I guess.”
“What else you doing? Hanging on the strip? That gets old after a while. Come by, have that drink, mix in with the locals, and get you some laughs and probably some numbers.”
“Numbers at the strip club, girl? No, I think not. I can’t compete with pussy just everywhere.”
“You’d be surprised,” Yogi said with a friendly laugh. “So, get cute and get a cab to The Den. I’m going to leave your name at the door. If you have any problems, just ask for Roscoe, and he got you too. Heading there now, and I’ll be there until at least seven.”
“In the morning?”
“Yup. The trap don’t ever close.”
“For real?” Bianca questioned.
“Girl, you got a lot to learn, but don’t worry. I will teach you the ropes.”
CHAPTER 15
Bianca stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she smoothed the red lipstick across her lips. She puckered her lips to even out the lip paint. Next, she turned her head left to right, admiring the way that her hair fell down from the doobie that she’d had it in. She hoped and prayed that she could find a good Dominican shop that could wrap the heck out of her hair, but for the time being, if she kept it wrapped up in pins and in a doobie, it would fall pretty for the next couple of weeks, until she could find a good hair spot. She hoped soon, because she knew for sure that the Miami heat would not be nice to her hair.
“Time to have a little fun in this hot-ass Miami heat,” Bianca said to herself. She’d been doing a lot of talking to herself lately. It was moments like this that really made her miss Caesar. No matter what, she’d always had him to talk to. Those days were gone. She’d never hear the sound of his voice again. She shook her head, ridding herself of those sad thoughts. She was about to hit the streets. She couldn’t go out looking all gloomy, so she plastered a fake smile on her face.
“Yeah, that’ll do it. Time to go play. All work and no play makes Bianca a . . .” She thought for a minute. “Hell, who am I kidding? Even when I’m playing, I’m working.” She picked up the bottle of body spray from the set she’d picked up yesterday at Bath and Body Works.
Hopefully, once she got her feet wet, she’d be able to put a crew together out here.
“You really need more than one go-to person in business,” Caesar had once told her. “Never put all your eggs in one basket. If that one person knows they are all you have, they’ll end up taking advantage of that . . . and you.”
Bianca shook her head. “Still following your advice, Cee.” She smiled, sprayed the body spray on her, set the bottle back down, and then exited the bathroom.
It was after one a.m., but by Miami’s standards, still kind of early. From what she was told, things really didn’t start happening until two, so she would be a little ahead of schedule, but better to be early than late any day. Bianca looked around the room and grabbed her gold Fendi cross-body purse. She made sure she had her hotel room key, and then she did one more sweep of the room before leaving.
Bianca made her way to the elevator and took it down to the lobby. The elevator doors opened like the Red Sea parting. Bianca strutted across the hotel lobby like she owned it, and she commanded everyone’s attention. Folks nearly stumbled on top of each other, staring at the beautiful young girl in the tight, form-fitting, knee-length red tube dress with gold, strappy heels. The only accessory Bianca carried was her purse. She wasn’t all iced-out with jewelry. She had learned through it all that less was more to her.
The one thing Bianca knew about men was that they needed to be needed. If she looked like the strong, independent type who could do everything for herself and buy everything for herself, that could definitely be a turn-off. By the same token, with a powerful man, a woman sometimes had to show just a hint of how powerful she was as well. She didn’t want to look like no bum bitch, but at the same time, she had to let a guy think there was a void in her life that he could fill, be it with material things or whatever else.
“Can I help you, miss?” one of the bellboys asked. “Do you need a ride?”
Bianca shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m waiting on one.”
“No problem. Have a good evening,” he said, doing a slight bow, only as an opportunity to let his eyes glide down Bianca’s body.
“Thank you,” Bianca replied. For the next couple of minutes, Bianca stood there, looking from left to right, ignoring all the glares from the women whose men were doing all the staring. Finally, Bianca’s ride arrived.
“Sammy, you’re late,” she said as soon as he got out of the cab.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I got stuck in traffic.” Sammy hurried to open Bianca’s door for her.
“Traffic? At one o’clock in the morning?” Bianca asked, not believing her cabbie’s excuse.
“There was an accident. We had to wait for the
