Be Bad For MeBy: Princess Black
“Girl, I’m not looking for no man to tie me down. I just get my time in when I can, reap whatever they workin’ with and exit stage left. Besides, it’s too many trifling ass fools out there.”
Annette and Bianca were recent college graduates. They met in college when they were both in the same Business Economics class their last year of school. They shared many of the same hobbies, habits, and the same attraction to certain type of men. Or, maybe certain types of men were attracted to them.
Annette pouted her full set of lips and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was dark caramel complexion with pretty brown almond shaped eyes, defined cheekbones, lips almost as full as Angelina Jolie’s, and had an oval face. Everyone she met always complimented her on her good looks and asked if she was a model. The fact was Annette didn’t like to bring too much attention to herself. She liked attention, just not too much.
There was a beep on her cell phone letting her know that she had another call coming in. She looked down at the lighted screen and saw that it was Anthony.
“Girl, I gotta go. That’s him.”
“Call me tomorrow.” Bianca hung up.
She switched over to the other line. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, baby. I just pulled into your apartment complex. You gonna let me in?” His voice was so smooth and sexy and she was all smiles every time she heard it.
“You know you got a key, baby. Where is it?” She got up and wrapped a pink terry cotta robe around her naked body.
“I left those keys at the house. Let me in.”
“Then, how did you get in the gate without the key card?” she asked. She lived in a gated apartment community and residents used a remote key for entry.
“It’s easy to tailgate in that slow ass gate, baby. Come open the door.”
She slipped her freshly manicured feet into matching bedroom slippers and hurried toward the door. Anthony was a little early. He wasn’t supposed to be here for another thirty minutes. This was a first. Half of the time, he was at least thirty minutes late. When she opened the door, she immediately remembered why she loved him so much in the first place. Anthony Wright was fine as hell. Even though he only stood five feet nine inches tall, he was all muscles beneath his baggy jeans and collared shirt. He took off an Atlanta Braves baseball cap with the letter A in the front center revealing his black silk do-rag.
“You look good, baby,” she said, pulling him into her apartment.
“You look good, too, but, I know you aren’t gonna wear what you got on,” he said, standing back to look at her after closing the door behind him.
“No, silly…I didn’t have to time to change. Aren’t you a little early?” she asked, turning around and walked back to her bedroom.
“It’s already five forty five. I told you to be ready at six.” He followed me into the bedroom.
“All I have to do is slip in my dress. That’s all,” she said, walking back over to the vanity and pulling four big rollers from the top of her head. Her hair fell down, framing her face, and she blended her tresses in with her fingers, careful not to mess up the volume that the rollers had created at the top. Her long straight jet-black hair fell about two or three inches below her shoulders. She liked to wear it straight, like tonight, with blunt cut bangs in the front, which Annette claimed to be her signature look.
Anthony walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You know I miss you, baby. I was thinking about your fine ass those whole two days that I was in Miami.” Anthony had been in Miami for the past two days promoting his demo music and a record label with one of his other friends.
“I missed you, too,” she said. She turned around and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, and thanks for paying my rent. You really didn’t have to do that.”
The other day when she went to go pay her rent, the property manager informed her that the balance was zero and that someone had called in a payment that afternoon. She had told Anthony that she could afford her own rent for the past few months, but he had been ignoring her and making the payment before she could.
“You know I like taking care of you, baby. You my homegirl. Imma always come through for you.”