Chapter 12
Ican’t believe Charlie’s pregnant.” Stassi sat across from Day in the back of his Mercedes Sprinter. He hadn’t said one word, and neither had she. His mind was on his money. Ironically, so was hers.
Day’s thumbs were moving rapidly across the screen of his phone, and he looked up over an irritated brow.
“Yeah, this shit just keeps getting worse and worse,” he said. “If there’s anything worse than an artist that got a rep for being a side chick, it’s a pregnant fucking artist. Ain’t nothing less marketable than that. Should have never agreed to sign Demi’s girl, man.”
He blew out a breath, and his stern face softened. He placed his phone face down on the seat beside him.
“Ayo, my man, swing by MGM and call ahead to let them know I need the penthouse,” he said. He picked up his phone and dialed a number. “Ro, cancel the rest of my day. Something came up.”
“What came up?” Stassi asked.
“Trouble,” he said. “You free? You tryna get in a little trouble for a minute, or you scared?”
“I’m scared, but I’m not running.”
“What scares you?” He asked.
“Failure,” she answered. “Ending up like my mom. She hopped from man to man until she met Charlie’s dad and she’s only with him for the money.
I mean, she probably learned to love him over the years, but how sad is that?
To learn to love someone? I want love to find me on the most casual spring day.
Like on a day when I’m not even expecting it. While I’m at the gym or…”
“In Aisle 6 wearing an apron with flour all over you?” Day replied.
Stassi nodded. “Yeah, on an unsuspecting day.”
“Hey, boss. Don’t mean to interrupt. Word just came in. The new single is hitting radio after this next segment. When they come back from break, they gon’ break the record. Roman just text me,” the driver said.
“Turn it up,” Day instructed.
Stassi heard the popular DJ introduce the record, and when Stassi heard her voice come through the speakers, she was mortified.
Day had mixed the recording of her masturbating into the beat of his single.
He didn’t even look up at her as it played.
He nodded his head to the beat cooly and scrolled through social media.
“It’s going up,” he commented.
“It’s that mu’fucking intro and the girl moaning in the background on the hook. Calling your name and shit. That shit was genius. This one going number one.”
Day finally looked at Stassi.
She wanted to ask him if he’d lost his mind. She wanted to be mad. She wanted to demand he take her off the record, but all she could do was clench her thighs as her clit went crazy. She was so turned on. The audacity of this man. To direct her orgasm, then lace his song with her pleasure.
“I literally see it in my head every time the this joint play.”
She turned her head out the window because she couldn’t look at him. He was turning her into someone she had never imagined she’d be. A sexually fluid, empowered, unapologetic freak. She was wet for him. She was always wet for him. Just the mention of his name flooded her with desire.
When they arrived, they entered through separate doors.
She was whisked away by the concierge, through the front, while Day was driven to the back.
She didn’t know why but her vibe instantly changed.
It was the sneaking that reminded her this was a business arrangement.
She met him on the elevator, and as soon as the elevator doors closed, he spoke.
“We can order some food if you’re hungry,” he said.
“Not necessary,” she answered. Her tone was cold, and he picked up on it immediately.
He glanced at her, only half focusing. His phone was apparently hard to compete with.
They stepped off at the top floor and walked directly into the penthouse suite.
It was opulent and plush, but it didn’t even matter.
He may as well had taken her to a Motel 6 because she felt cheap.
“So where you want to do this? In the bedroom? On the couch? On the balcony?” She asked.
He looked up from his phone, frowning, then went back to his business and walked around her.
She rolled her eyes. “I ain’t got all day.”
“You ain’t got no job. You got as much time as I need,” Day replied without even turning her way.
She was taken aback by his comment, so much so that she turned around to head for the door.
“Words work, Stassi. Much better than tantrums and attitudes that I can’t decipher. Every minute I’m here with you is time I’m missing money, so it needs to be worthwhile,” he said.
Stassi scoffed. This nigga and his money.
He’s so fucking arrogant. She began taking off her clothes with aggression.
She snatched off her jean jacket. “Worthwhile,” she repeated, nodding.
“You want me to make it worth your while?” She shouted, tossing the jacket on the floor.
Her shirt was next and she threw it at his head.
“Yo, what the fuck is the problem?” Day asked, holding his hands out, palms up, perplexed.
“No problem. Just not wasting your money and your time,” she spat. Her jeans came next. Then her panties. Then her bra.
Day’s annoyance could not be hidden. His phone rang, and he turned like she wasn’t standing in front of him butt-ass naked. When he answered the call, her eyes watered.
“Yo, Ro, what up?” He asked.
Stassi sucked her teeth and snatched her pants off the floor. She had never been so fucking salty in her life.
She was jumping into her skin-tight denim before he could stop her.
“Yo, Ro, hold up for a minute,” Day said. He put his focus on her. “Fuck is the problem, Stassi?”
She didn’t even bother with her bra. She threw on her shirt. “Nothing wrong, I’m just leaving. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure I leave out the back door.”
“Stassi…”
She ignored him and stepped into the elevator.
“Man, Ro, let me hit you in a minute, dawg.”
By the time he ended the call, Stassi was disappearing behind the closing doors.
She logged into her banking app and reversed the wire.
The money was needed, but it just wasn’t worth being the girl a man didn’t even want to enter rooms with.
Her phone rang, and she knew it was Day. She sent him to voicemail and then flagged down the first cab she saw. She just wanted to go home and forget the entire situation with Day had ever happened.
She felt sick; a cocktail of embarrassment and desperation made her feel unworthy.
She knew it was a possibility that she could be overreacting.
She knew that it could be her own guilt and disgrace putting her in her feelings about things, but one thing her mother had taught her was that your feelings were your feelings…
they weren’t right or wrong…they just were.
She was on the brink of sobs, and she hated it.
Her spirit was crushed, and she couldn’t comprehend why.
Perhaps it was her history with watching her mother lease her pussy out for bill money.
Maybe even her own experiences with men discounting her worth.
It could possibly be the fact that she was all out of options.
She didn’t know, but this situation just made her feel low.
I like him, and he doesn’t even see me for real.
“Miss, is there a problem with Mr. Night’s room?”
The concierge caught her off guard, and she cleared her throat, dabbing fingers to her face. She didn’t want to cause a scene.
The fact that the concierge knew what room she was staying in made her feel like Day had a carousel of women that he brought here. Like the staff helped prep for his visits with paid pussy.
“The room is fine. Thank you. I just need to leave.”
“Well, Mr. Night has asked me to ask you to please return to the room. He has a very special dinner planned, and between you and me, he’s pulled a lot of strings to make this happen in very little time. We weren’t expecting him today, but we’ve tried our best to accommodate his requests.”
“What requests?” Stassi asked.
“If you would allow me to escort you to our spa, I will show you,” he said.
The elderly gentleman had a presence like a grandfather.
He was the mediator to her emotions, and she felt like she was in trusting hands as he walked her across the lobby.
He held open the door for her, and the scent of eucalyptus greeted her.
“Anastassia?” The woman behind the desk greeted.
Stassi smiled unsurely. “Yes.”
“We’ve curated an amazing experience for you today. Before we get started, we just need you to fill out these forms of your preferences of pressure for your massage and whether you might have any allergies.” Stassi was clueless.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t even aware I would be getting spa services. What all am I signed up for?” She asked.
“We’ve canceled all our appointments for the rest of the day to accommodate you and Mr. Night. We’ve been texting back and forth with him for the past hour so we wouldn’t ruin the surprise,” the concierge said, smiling.
So that’s who he was texting.
She hated that she couldn’t trust her own emotions. She was up and down. She was trusting and doubtful. She was aroused and ashamed. Expensive and cheap. Her life had become an oxymoron.
“Here is your key to your locker. Everythng you need is inside. Get changed, and then your master masseuse will come for you shortly. You can enjoy the women’s lounge until then.”
Stassi felt the urge to call Day to apologize.
She had assumed the worst, and although he was super arrogant, she had a feeling that her conscience was more to blame than his intentions.
Her stubbornness stopped her from admitting her wrongs, however.
If he were willing to sweep it under the rug, so would she.
She undressed and wrapped her body in the plush robe and slippers they provided.