The Smoke Hour

1. Kaifiya “Fiya” Michelle Simmons

Kaifiya “Fiya” Michelle Simmons

Saturday Night

I turned my glass up again and let the whiskey burn my throat.

“Damn, girl. You good?” Christina Jamison, one of my best friends, asked.

“Shit. As good as I’m going to be, Chris.”

“You don’t have to go through with this, you know?” Tamara Washington, my other friend, commented, leaning forward on her barstool to look around Christina at me.

“I told the man that I would marry him. What the fuck I look like reneging on that shit now?” I grabbed my glass, turned it up, and finished it off.

“Like a fucking nightmare if you show up on your ass, which is where you’re heading if you don’t quit tossing them back,” Christina stated.

“I’ve got time. It’s not until next Sunday. Besides, y’all supposed to be my girls. How y’all let me go out like that?”

“We had nothing to do with that. Don’t turn that shit on us, Kai. You’re the one who wanted to do this shit because you thought it was the only way to save your little business.”

I mugged Tamara and waved a finger at her. “My shit ain’t little. Don’t go there with me. I worked my ass off to build what I’ve got, and I wasn’t about to lose it. I tried every damn bank to get a loan, and they all turned my ass flat down because I didn’t have the revenue to back that shit up.”

“Okay, so what the fuck is you saying? You decided that marrying his ass was the only way out of this shit.”

“Well… now I’m deciding that I don’t want that to be the fate of my future.”

“Why? What changed?” Tamara asked.

“The bigger question should be, why aren’t you telling him that?” Christina asked.

“Because I spent the money,” I whined and dropped my head onto the bar.

“All of it?” Christina asked.

“All of it.” I whimpered.

“Bitch, how the hell did you spend a quarter of a mill in less than six months?” Tamara shrieked.

“Shut the fuck up.” Christina hissed at her.

I groaned. “Please stop with the judgment, Tam. I feel bad enough.”

“I get it, but damn. Seriously, how, Kai?”

“I repaid the initial loan, and I had bills to pay. I did what I needed to do to make sure that I could keep the shop open and put food on my table.”

“Sometimes, you have to put your dreams on hold to handle the real shit, Kai,” Tam stated.

I glanced at her through one bleary eye.

“Don’t be mad at her, Kai. She’s right, honey,” Christina stated.

“You too?” I hissed as I glared at Christina.

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t tell you the truth.”

“Why me? Fuck. My. Life.” With each word, I thumped the bar counter hard with my hand.

“Well, at least you’re having one final fun weekend before you’re on lockdown with Mr. T,” Tamara stated.

“Don’t call his ass that. Makes me think of that nigga from that old eighties TV show,” I muttered.

“Hell, tell that to his mama. I’m not the one who named him Terry Thompson,” Tamara stated.

“Well, if there’s anything to be said for marrying him, your ass won’t want for shit. He’s wealthy and willing to give you whatever you want.”

“Yeah, in exchange for carrying his name, flaunting me on his arm, and giving him a damn baby.” I shuddered.

“The hell is that about?” Tamara snickered.

“That’s gonna be one ugly ass baby if it comes out looking like him,” I explained.

Tamara screamed with laughter while Christina gasped. “Don’t say that, Kai. There’s no such thing as an ugly baby.”

“Heffa, please. You know some of these kids walking around here with a face only a mother could love. Shit, some of them ain’t even loved by their mothers. They trying to push their ugly asses back in the womb,” I replied.

“You’re wrong for that, and you need to ask God to forgive you,” Christina remarked after she’d spit out her drink on the counter, laughing.

“God already forgave her drunk ass. He knows that the Kaifiya we’re dealing with tonight isn’t his normal child. How many drinks have you had anyway?” Tamara asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied with a groan.

“At least six at this point. And you know she’s a lightweight,” Christina stated.

The bartender returned to our end of the counter and wiped up Christina’s spill.

“Ladies, can you keep it down just a little?” she asked.

“It’s a bar. Gahdamn,” Tamara stated.

“Come on. Let’s go,” Christina remarked.

“But we’re just getting started,” I whined.

“Girl, please. This is our second bar. But it is boring as hell,” Tamara replied and smacked her lips.

“Come on,” Christina stated and grabbed my purse as she tugged on my arm.

I hopped off the barstool and headed out the door. The cool late winter air hit my face and immediately relieved me of the drowsiness that had come over me when I’d started drinking.

“Where are we going?” Christina asked, looking up and down the strip of downtown Cherokee Springs.

“Let’s crash The Smoke Hour,” Tamara declared.

“Why?” Christina asked.

“Why not?” Tamara replied.

“Because it’s for gentlemen only,” Christina commented.

“Historically, yes, but there’s a first time for everything. What the fuck are they going to do? Toss us out?” Tamara asked.

“I feel like getting tossed the fuck out of somewhere. I’m mad that I let my ass get into this stupid shit. I feel like clowning. Let’s go,” I stated and ran out into the street.

“Kai! Wait!” Christina shouted.

I kept moving, and Tamara was right behind me, giggling her ass off. I knew that Christina would catch up. She wouldn’t allow us to do anything without her because she always worried about the shenanigans we got into.

I pushed open the charcoal glass doors of The Smoke Hour.

“Hello. Welcome to The Smoke Hour. Would you like to purchase a membership as a gift for someone?”

The Smoke Hour was a gentlemen’s only club, and the only way that a woman could access the lounge was if she worked here.

“Actually, yes. I would. We’re thinking about purchasing a membership for our brother,” I explained, waving my finger back and forth between Tamara and me. Christina hadn’t caught up yet. “A friend of my brother’s suggested this as the perfect birthday gift for his thirty-fifth birthday. I was hoping that we might be able to get a tour to decide if we wanted to spend that much on his gift.”

“Ahh.” The woman looked between the two of us as Christina stepped inside. “We don’t allow women access to the club unless she’s looking for work, so I wouldn’t be able to give you a tour for your brother’s potential membership. We would give him a tour, though.”

“But it’s supposed to be a surprise,” Tamara stated.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

“Excuse me, ladies. I know you were here first, but my Uber gave me ten minutes to make this stop before he leaves. I don’t have another way home except for him, so do you mind?” Christina asked as she stepped up beside Tamara and me.

I had no idea what she was up to, but I knew that despite being a goody two shoes, she was a hell of an actress.

“No problem, boo. Do you.” I shrugged and took a step back.

“Hi, my name is Christina Jamison, and one of your dancers told me that you were hiring. I’m desperately in need of a new job, so I wanted to see if I could speak with a member of management,” she lied.

The receptionist frowned and asked, “Which dancer was it?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. I met her over at Salon Estime over on Ward, and she was talking about the club while she was being serviced. I was in the chair two seats away from hers, and I just happened to overhear her conversation with her stylist.”

“Oh, that must have been Estelle,” she replied and shook her head. “I don’t think that we’re hiring, though.”

“Well, could you please check?”

Christina leaned closer and stated, “I’m embarrassed to say this, but I was laid off from my job, and my husband left me. I’m trying to do everything that I can to keep a roof over mine and my son’s head.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we just—”

“Please. We have three more nights in our hotel room, and then we’ll be out on the streets. I don’t even know how I’ll feed him dinner tonight. Please, just inquire?”

The receptionist’s face crumpled with compassion when Christina started crying. “Oh, no. Let me check. Give me a couple of minutes. You can have a seat right there. Ladies, I’m sorry about your request. There’s nothing that I can do to help you.”

“Come on, Tam,” I stated and headed for the doorway.

Christina took a seat in a chocolate brown and black marbled leather chair. The masculine and moody décor screamed of money while being subdued and comfortable at the same time. From the wood-paneled walls to the heavy leather furnishing, every inch of this place had been crafted with the idea of catering to a man. The club sported luxurious finishes, including the shelving behind the receptionist, which held crystal decanters and antique trinkets.

Large marble statues of erotic women stood sentinel beside the doors on either side of the desk. The receptionist, whose name tag read Pharris, took the door to our left.

“Let’s go,” Christina stated as soon as the door closed behind Pharris. We ran to the opposite door.

Tamara and I quickly slipped through the other doorway with Christina on our heels. We followed the voices and music.

No sooner than we stepped out of the hallway did we walk into a large main room where there were several large club chairs, small smoky glass tables, and a bar along one wall. There was another room at the rear of this one and another hallway to the left of the main room. I suspected there were private rooms back there.

October London’s “Back To Your Place” was playing loud enough to hear the lyrics but not so loud that the occupants couldn’t hear themselves speak.

We quickly moved beyond that room where men sat around tables, drinking and smoking cigars, with women draped on them. The next room was darker than the first and was decorated in blues, blacks, and grays.

Several large leather club chairs were throughout the room, and most of them were occupied. Small glass side tables sat between every two chairs, and the men had their drinks and food on trays on the table.

Some men had girls giving them lap dances, while others were focused on the naked women on stage. We headed to the back of the room and took a seat.

“You think we’ll get kicked out?” Christina asked.

“Shit. It’s too late to think about that now. Your ass concocted an elaborate plan to get us in here,” I whispered.

“I wish they would try to pull me out this bitch. We’re about to have fun on my girl’s last weekend as a single woman,” Tamara stated before she flagged a waitress down and placed an order for us.

The woman looked too happy to serve us. Our drinks had just been served before we noticed a security guard enter the room. Thankfully, the lights were dim, so he didn’t spot us right away.

“He’s about to kick our asses out of here,” Tamara whispered.

“So mortifying,” Christina remarked.

“This is my shit, and if we’re going out, we might as well go out in a blaze,” I whispered when the beginning notes of Summer Walker’s “Girls Need Love” came on, and the guard made his way toward the rear on the opposite side of the room.

“The hell are you about to do with your crazy ass?” Tamara asked.

“If I get pulled out, make sure y’all grab my shoes. These bitches cost a pretty penny. They were a gift from Terry.”

“Kaifiya Michelle Simmons!” Christina hissed.

I sped to the stage and rushed up the few steps. There were two dancers on the rear poles and one woman on the main pole. She looked at me in confusion and with lots of attitude as I strutted toward her, twisting the hell out of my hips and ass.

She kept twirling around the pole and thrusting her ass out as I drew closer.

“The fuck you doing up here?” she hissed when I neared the pole.

I placed my hands above hers and moved behind her as we circled the pole.

“I’ve been wanting to do this shit for a while. I just want to test my classes out and see if they’re legit.”

“This ain’t no game, baby.”

“Not saying it is. You got mad skills, and I respect your shit. I’m about to marry a man that I don’t love, and his ass ain’t even cute or fine. I want one last night of fun before I do this shit.”

“I’m not getting off this stage.”

“Don’t want you to. We can do this shit together.”

“Tips are all mine.”

“I don’t even need them, boo.”

“Fine. Let’s see what you’re working with,” the dancer replied as she slid onto the floor and did a dance that had her booty popping.