Vengeance

  I kept staring at Jonovan. I could tell he was starting to feel uncomfortable and possibly even regret what he had expressed to me. The true question wasn’t whether he could handle being with me, it was whether I could handle a relationship, period.

  “Did I say something wrong?” he finally asked.

  “No. I’m sorry. My mind was wandering.”

  “That’s just what a guy aims for. Telling a woman that he’s feeling her and discovering that her mind was someplace else while he was saying it.”

  “I heard every word you said, and my thoughts pertained to it.”

  “In that case, a penny for your thoughts.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes for a brief moment. Then I looked him in the eyes. “This entire thing is out of my element. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been on a date. Pathetic but true. You’re a nice man, and I enjoy being in your company as well. But I need to take this slow.”

  “I understand and I’ve got nothing but time.”

  “It was asking a lot of you to come with me and leave your father.”

  “I have a home aide there with him. He has to be watched around the clock, whether I’m in town or not, and I still have to work. I can’t always be there with him.”

  “I still appreciate you coming.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

  * * *

  Jonovan and I had a blast on Daddy’s island. It could accommodate up to fifty guests spanned out over the nine buildings. Being that it was only the two of us and the staff, we were able to go from structure to structure and continued to have deep conversations with each other. I felt so bad about not admitting that I was Caprice, but that was not an option . . . never could be.

  We had a nice dinner for my birthday in the dining room by candlelight. The chef on the island prepared an excellent meal of meatballs with brown gravy, herbed potatoes, creamed cabbage, and cucumber salad. He made an apple cake and rhubarb pudding for dessert and we switched from wine to Christiania Vodka, native to Norway.

  We listened to jazz music throughout our meal and then slow-danced for about an hour to a mixture of old-school love ballads and recent freakier and mostly sexually explicit music. Our bodies meshed well together, and Jonovan had no idea that it was the first time that I had been so close to a man, dancing like that, in decades.

  We most certainly did not have sex that night, but we did fall asleep together in a hammock by the ocean . . . with the sun out.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tuesday, November 6, 2012

  11:19 a.m.

  Atlanta, Georgia

  Are you sure you want to go?” Antonio asked. “They’re going to mob you in a clothing boutique.”

  We were on our way to Cherie’s couture joint. It amused me when I heard a lot of chicks on YouTube—another pastime of mine because I was alone a lot—bragging about how they were sporting couture this or couture that and then posting links to where they could be purchased. That was true “hood rat” mentality, because a real couture experience is when fashions are designed to meet the specific requirements and measurements of clients. The word “couture” means sewing, not fashion, like they believe on the street. A video and a link where you can choose a size between 2 and 24 or XS and XXXL was couture? Get the fuck out of here!

  Cherie was the real deal, though. Her store was called Ascending Trends, and I actually liked a lot of her designs. I had strung her along for months, like Bianca, and made it seem like I was ready to actually let her be my stylist. Nikki had called her the day before to set up an appointment, which meant that I should’ve had an exclusive window with her. But I was no dummy. I had been around the block a time or two. Once when I was on tour, I asked one of my backup dancers to set up a hair appointment in this small hick town we were staying on the outskirts of on our way to a major venue. When I got there, a lot of people “just happened to drop by” after work to see him, or make an appointment for the following week in person. I’d never seen so many chicks whose hair was recently done and already on fleek show up in a salon. He finally admitted that he had “mentioned it to a few people” and they ended up asking me to take photos and I even had Diederik go out to the limo and scrounge up some headshots for me to autograph for them.

  I loved the fact that my fans loved me, so on the rare occasions when I was bombarded by them off the cuff, I didn’t mind. I wasn’t actually stuck-up like so much of the media portrayed me to be since I rarely did interviews. I was motherfucking cautious because, as I stated before, opportunists will come out the woodwork and guzzle down that glass of water while others are still debating about what to do about it.

  So Cherie was guaranteed to have mentioned my impending visit to at least some of her clients, especially the reality show broads who would jump at the chance to take photos that they could tweet or update their statuses with. They were all over the place, so it was not a big deal for someone to take a photo with them, but it was a big damn deal for them to take one with me. I was prepared and looking cute and sexy for the onslaught of nonsense. My hair and nails were real, though. No need to fuck with perfection with weaves and gel tips. I took good care of myself, outside of the occasional cutting back in the day, in spots not visible to anyone, and it showed. Some women are naturally beautiful and others look tore up from the floor up without all of their “gear” in place. I wasn’t tripping on them; whatever worked to land men. I wasn’t checking to land a man—just make my millions.

  A lot of the men who complained about being gold diggers truly had a lot of nerve. They would go around flashing their fancy cars, expensive watches, earrings, and chains, and brag about their mansions and hefty income and then turn around and get mad when women only wanted them for their money instead of their average dicks. An even swap wasn’t a swindle, so the men got their trophies and the women got their bank to pay for their weaves, nails, clothes, and whips. It all panned out.

  I was glad that Jonovan was not like the other men who I’d run across in my life. We had been spending a lot of quality time together, when time permitted, and I was really starting to fall for him. I could tell that he had already fallen for me but was afraid to admit it since he knew that I had such a low opinion of the majority of men. I’m sure that it was also tripping him out that a woman like me would seemingly be sweating a man like him. I would call him day and night, ask him to come over, and I had even been over to his place a few times to help him take care of his father. One time I even did household chores, including cleaning the toilets. I hadn’t cleaned toilets since 1987, when Caprice ran away from Grandma’s house. I was beginning to understand what the term “nose wide-open” meant. I was beginning to focus a lot of my attention on Jonovan, sometimes opting to be in his presence over being in the studio completing my album. But being around him was also helping me with my songwriting. I was able to relate some of my lyrics to real-life experiences for a change.

  I was also still having my sessions with Marcella. I had managed to open up to her more and more. I didn’t tell her what I had done to Herman. There is a huge difference between values, morals, and ethics. Values are rules that people attempt to adhere to. Morals are the basis on which people judge or evaluate other people. Ethics are professional standards. If I had told Marcella about how I had set up Herman, she would have followed her professional ethics and revealed it. No damn doubt about it.

  But I did tell her about what I had done to Michael. Speaking of which, that was another reason why I knew Ascending Trends would be crowded that Tuesday morning. I had put Plan A out into the universe a few days earlier. I decided to pace myself and let that shit with Herman have a couple of months to marinate before I fucked up the world according to Cherie and Michael. I had edited the footage myself, cropping out heads and other identifying aspects of Glaze and Mrs. Teasedale, but leaving no doubt that it was Michael Vinson in every single frame. Then I had used a remote, untraceable router—the shit you could order offli
ne was ridiculous—to post it on Porn4U.com. MediaTakeOut and WorldstarHipHop had a field day with it. Worldstar had about ten million views the first day. It was off the motherfucking chain.

  Michael had always wanted to be famous. Well, now he was. He was famous for stockpiling pussy on a sofa and eating and banging them both out, not to mention the other shit that went down that day. Cherie had to be embarrassed. One could only imagine the tags she received on social media, linking her to the video, or the phone calls and texts she received. I am sure people were talking mad shit about his cheating being the reason why he had never proposed.

  In fact, Cherie hadn’t even opened up her store since the leak, but when Nikki called to make an appointment, all that changed. She stood to make hundreds of thousands of dollars off me—both with my direct purchases and from the women who would want to look like me and would ask her to make them similar outfits. Cherie was hurt, she was disappointed, but she wasn’t foolish enough to miss out on landing me as a client. And the fact that I was actually coming to her so she could show off was an added bonus.

  All of that had been running through my head prior to Antonio’s question.

  “Yeah, it’s going to be a mess,” Nikki added.

  “It’ll be fine. I have an appointment, so there really shouldn’t be a lot of people around.”

  Nikki was sitting beside me on the rear seat of the SUV. Antonio was up front with the driver and Kagiso and Diederik were following us in a Mercedes CLS 550.

  “You know better than that,” she said. “That chick has probably called or texted everyone she knows to tell them you’re coming. A chance to meet Wicket? Girlllllllllll, it’s going to be a madhouse!”

  “If it gets too bad, I’ll simply say unto her, ‘Bye, Felicia.’ ”

  We both giggled.

  Antonio asked, “Isn’t she the one whose dude was outed in a video last week? I saw something about it on MediaTakeOut.”

  “Really? What happened?” I replied, feigning ignorance.

  “Oh snap!” Nikki exclaimed. “I hadn’t even put that together.” She turned to me. “Her boyfriend has a sex tape with two women where he’s doing them both at the same time.”

  “My motherfucking hero,” Antonio remarked. I saw him give the driver a fist dap. Apparently, the driver had seen the shit, too. Perfect!

  “That’s a damn shame.” I tried to pretend like I was bothered by it. “She must be so hurt. I’ve met him before and he seemed to be so into her.”

  “That video is on point,” Nikki said. “You want me to pull it up on my iPad so you can see it before we get there?”

  I suppressed a laugh. “Sure, why not? Seems like everyone else in this whip has seen it. I feel left out.”

  * * *

  Once we arrived at Ascending Trends, a group of both men and women were hanging around outside like they were simply kicking it. Who shoots the breeze in front of a clothing store? You would’ve thought Cherie was serving free Starbucks coffee up in that mickey.

  Some were obvious as we pulled up, and whipped out there camera phones, pointing them directly at the back door of the SUV. Others tried to act like they didn’t know what was going down. Diederik and Kagiso got out the Benz first and went inside to make sure I could have a clear walkway into the place. Then Diederik came out and Antonio got out the front to help him make a path on the sidewalk for me. I had just finished off the video, making comments the entire time like I was shocked and appalled about the entire thing. In the back of my mind, I was commending Glaze once again for doing the damn thing.

  Nikki and I were escorted out the back and I spent a good two to three minutes posing for photos, but no one was allowed to take one with me. All they were able to do was snap away and jockey for positions to take selfies with me in the background. After I grew tired of it, I walked inside.

  “Wicket, I’m so glad you could come!” Cherie exclaimed, dressed to the nines at that time of the morning. She had on a red satin dress with a big bow on the side. It was smoking hot. I had to give it to her. “I have some champagne waiting for you back in the viewing area.” She paused to make sure everyone was listening and then announced, “Cristal.”

  I wanted to gag. Cristal, at about two hundred a pop, was cheap to me. If she had been talking some vintage Krug Brut, then she would’ve been saying something.

  I faked a smile. “Sounds good.”

  “I’m sorry they’re so many people in here. A lot of people are hitting me up early for the holidays.”

  “Well, perfection takes time, so I understand. You’re going to be real busy from the looks of it.”

  When she winked at me and flashed a phony smile, I lost it. I was about to initiate Plan C. I actually went there for a reason and wanted an audience. Nikki and Antonio mentioning the video in the car and then showing it to me had been unpredicted, but it was right on time. Now my “act” would make a lot more sense. Won’t He do it?

  There were a good twenty-five or so people in the boutique. I glanced around and took them in. Some of the hairstyles were “unbeweavable.”

  “It’s a blessing to be so popular, both in the local community and globally.”

  “I guess you’re ever more famous, or should I say infamous, now?” I ran my fingers over a little black strapless number on a mannequin. “I just caught that porno of Michael on the way here. Over forty million views on that one site? He’s the man, huh?”

  Cherie looked like she wanted to drop dead right then and there. The others were being quiet, trying to catch every word. Antonio chuckled a bit.

  “That entire thing was a misunderstanding,” Cherie replied. “He was set up.”

  I squinted at her in disbelief. This bitch was going to try to make excuses for him. Shame on it all. “Set up?”

  “Yes, it was an audition for a movie and things got out of hand.”

  “Well, shit, if he didn’t land that role, then the role couldn’t be landed. He ate more pussy up in that flick than ten men in a whorehouse.”

  Everyone laughed but Cherie and me.

  “That’s going to become a classic. The way he ate them both out on top of each other.”

  “It’s already a classic,” Kagiso said with a grin. He’d apparently seen it as well.

  “Like I said, it was a misunderstanding.” Cherie was getting heated. “Everyone falls, but they get up. I’m quite sure you’re no saint.”

  If she only knew the half of it!

  “No need to get those cute little lace panties of yours up in a bunch, and don’t insult me again. I made time out of my extremely busy schedule to come check out your stuff. Now you want to disrespect me?”

  “Wicket, you disrespected me first. I’m not in the mood to discuss Michael. He’s fine. We’ll be fine.”

  “Wow, that’s some loyalty for a man who’s been with you for decades and still hasn’t put a ring on your finger. He’s purchased the cow and at least a dozen calves by now.”

  “I know that’s right!” one chick with orange hair and blue contacts yelled out. “I ain’t laying up with no man for more than a year without a proposal!”

  Another one yelled out, “Not unless his first name is Sugar and his last name is Daddy!”

  “My personal life is none of your business!” Cherie yelled at me and then eyed the other two women. “And it’s none of yours, either!”

  One of the few men who was in the store said, “Maybe he shouldn’t have been banging out random broads in front of a camera then.”

  “He didn’t know he was being taped!”

  I smirked. “Oh, come on. While it appears that there may have been cameras shooting from various angles, there was a big-ass tripod and camera right there in front of the sofa. Sad! He has you making up excuses for him. Must be some great dick, because it’s made you blind!”

  Cherie reached her breaking point. “You know what, Wicket? I don’t give a damn how famous you are or how rich you are, you can get the fuck out my place!”


  “Hold the fuck on,” Nikki said, beating KAD to the punch. “You can’t talk to her like that.”

  “I just did! And you can get the fuck out of here, too!”

  Nikki glanced at me. “You want me to whip this bitch’s ass? I already know you’ve got me on the bail money.”

  It took every morsel of self-control in my body, from the roots of my hair to the edges of my pedicured toenails, not to choke Cherie’s ass out right there in the middle of her marble floor in front of all those people.

  “No, Nikki, she’s not worth it,” I replied to her. “A tiger never loses sleep over the opinion of sheep.” I stepped up closer to Cherie. “Be glad that I’m in a good mood today, unlike yourself. You didn’t make me look bad by asking me to leave. You showed these people, who I’m sure will spread the word, that you’re an extremely weak woman.”

  “Damn sure did,” Orange Hair said, followed by a lip smack.

  “What your man was doing on that video came very naturally to him. It wasn’t the first time or the last. You need to make sure you use protection, because I wouldn’t fuck him with some other broad’s pussy.”

  “Damn!” a man exclaimed. “She went there.”

  “If you want to be a dummy and let that man bring you down and humiliate you in front of the world, and allow him to jeopardize everything you’ve worked hard for, do you. But don’t get upset with those of us who refuse to succumb to the power of the dick and act foolish over it.”

  I started heading toward the door as people snapped photos and, without a doubt, video to post all over the place. This was one time when I didn’t mind. In fact, I welcomed it. Having a showdown with me would only make tens of millions of more people want to see the sex tape.