Chapter 12
LUST’S MISTAKE
Pretti stood at her station, smiling as her client, Lolo, made her laugh with the story he was telling her. It had been a year since her shop had opened, and she already had an overwhelming number of loyal clients.
Every day, they came in and told her what was going on in their lives, as if she were their therapist. She didn’t just give good haircuts; she listened well, too.
All the men thought she was innocent and loved her California accent.
So, they confided in her the best way they could.
She didn't mind either because they always left her with a big tip.
“That bitch had the nerve to come to my party and try to fight my girl like she was my main bitch. My wife beat her ass, but now I'm in the doghouse. I ain't messing with no more hoes,” Lolo protested as Pretti lined up the back of his neck.
“That’s crazy, Lolo. I hope you’ve learned your lesson because you come in here every week with the same damn stories about your wife putting you in the doghouse because of another woman.
” She picked up her mirror and handed it to Lolo.
He checked out his crispy line and smiled brightly as he nodded his head.
“Your skills are fire, yo.” Lolo stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills.
“Thank you, Lolo.”
He then handed her two hundred-dollar bills. His cut was only sixty, but he always gave her more.
“I only give you that much every week because I enjoy coming in here and getting a cut from your fine ass. Plus, I know you out here trying to be an independent lady, and I support that. I’ll see you in two weeks.” He winked and walked off.
Pretti smiled and slid the money into her tips wallet. It was only four in the evening, and she had made two thousand dollars. Not only was she cutting hair, but she was also braiding too.
“You always letting these niggas flirt with you,” Lunden walked up and said softly near her ear.
Pretti turned around and faced him with her nose turned up. “I can’t control the way these dudes talk to me, and he wasn’t flirting. Lolo is cool, you know that. He’s your boy.”
“Yeah, you say that about all these niggas. You supposed to be my girl, and you make yourself available for all these niggas that come through here, yo.”
She sighed.
For the last year, she and Lunden had gotten serious. They had gotten so close, and she liked their relationship, but she thought he was possessive. He hated the way men looked at her, so he was always on the scene when she was working.
It was a week after her twentieth birthday, and she was still holding on to her virginity… and she knew Lunden was trying to work his way into her panties.
When he acted jealous, it always pushed her away from having sex, like he was doing in that moment. Knowing how he was, she didn’t want to give him everything and tie her soul to his.
“I don’t make myself available to anybody but you, Lunden, so stop it. Are you about to take me to dinner? Or are we arguing again today, and I have to go alone?” She rolled her eyes.
“Nah, I can’t do dinner tonight; that’s why I came here.
I ordered you and Storm some food tho’. But check it, I’m hosting my boy's birthday party tonight. I need you on my arm. I bought you some nice shit to wear; it’s at your crib.
So be ready at nine, no later, Pretti. You know you take too fuckin’ long to get dressed. ”
“Okay.”
He pulled her close to him by the waist and kissed her lips. “And take those fuckin’ braids out ya’ head. You look like some ghetto ass project bitch, and I don’t want you looking like that in the ten-thousand-dollar jacket I got you. Get your hair straightened.”
She pulled away from his hold and frowned. “What? Storm just did my hair. I'm not taking them down,” she whined.
“Whatever, just be ready at nine.” Lunden didn’t stress the issue because Storm had walked up, and he didn’t want her in their business. He kissed her again and walked off, leaving her fuming.
“Damn, what’s wrong, baby doll?” Storm asked as she looked at Pretti watching Lunden walk out of her shop.
“Your cousin is so fucking rude. Why?” she said, almost in tears.
Storm sighed, feeling bad for her new friend and boss. She knew how green Pretti was, and she didn’t like how Lunden was trying to control her.
“He’s always been a fucking dickhead. Girls think he is so fine and fall to his feet, so he thinks he can talk to anyone crazy. But I be letting his ass know.” Storm rolled her eyes and her neck as she spoke.
“He’s cool most of the time, but as soon as he sees me smiling with a guy, he gets crazy and says dumb shit to me.”
“I know you can't wait until Dexz comes home.” Storm smiled, and so did Pretti. It had been a couple of months since she heard from him, but she and Lunden were keeping money on his books.
“I miss my best friend.” She smiled as his face brushed across her thoughts.
“Well, I’m telling you now that Lunden is not Dexten.
They may have the same traits, but my cousin is not him.
Watch how you move with his crazy ass. He will have you in your feelings all the time,” Storm said truthfully.
She loved her cousin, but she and Pretti had gotten really close, and she didn’t want to see her hurt.
“I hear you, Storm. Thank you for being a friend to me since I've been here. Are you going to this party Lunden is talking about tonight?” she asked, changing the subject from Dexz to Lunden.
“You know I'm going to shake my ass tonight. You need me to do your makeup?”
“Yes, and my hair. I'm about to take my braids out while we eat. I need you to straighten it.”
“What? You don't like your braids?” Storm looked sad. She had done four goddess braids with red tips.
“No, it's just too tight, and I don’t want to be sitting in the club with tight braids. Let's try it again next week,” she lied. She didn't want Storm to know she was changing it for Lunden because she would flip out.
“Alright, it does look a little tight around the edges. I'll hook you up after we eat if you don't have any more clients.”
“Yeah, I'm done for the day, and we're closing early. I made my quota.”
“Shit, me too,” Storm said as the two walked to the break room to eat what Lunden had gotten sent for them. After the girls ate and talked, Pretti sent her nail tech and other stylists home since they were done for the day, too.
After she and Storm dolled each other up for the night, they both went home to get dressed and promised to see each other at the club.
$$$$
Later that night, Pretti got dressed in the outfit Lunden had gotten her for their night out at the hottest club in Manhattan.
It was a skintight black silk Chanel dress with matching red thigh-high boots.
The dress stopped at her thighs and had spaghetti straps, showing a lot of skin.
He had gotten her a fluffy leopard fur coat that stopped at her waist and a long-strapped designer bag.
“This nigga always wants me to dress like some New York chick.” She looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her room. The outfit was definitely fly, but it wasn't her style. She felt like she looked older than twenty, and a little slutty, but she rolled with it.
“What’s up, love? You ready?” Lunden yelled out from her living room. She freshened up her mascara because Storm had beat her face before she left the shop and walked out to the living room.
“I'm ready.” She walked out of the room.
“Damn,” Lunden said, feeling starstruck at her beauty like she was a movie star. “You look great.” He stood up from the couch. She looked ten times better than he ever imagined in the dress he had gotten her.
“I straightened my hair the way you liked.” She smiled as she ran her fingers through her long, natural black hair. She had to admit; Storm was the only person other than herself who could get her thick hair bone straight.
“Look, about that… I'm sorry. You didn’t look like what I said. I was buggin’.
I know you like to express yourself with your hair and your nails, and I don't want to take that from you.
Even though I love when you're on your natural shit.” He put his head down in shame.
After he left the shop, he thought about what he had said to her and knew hurting her feelings was not right.
“Thank you for apologizing and understanding.
If I don't look good, my clients will think I'm not going to make them look good, so I like to always look different all the time.
I told you, you're my boo, and I'll never do anything to disrespect you,” she admitted as she gazed into his almond-shaped brown eyes that she loved.
“Thank you, sweetheart. Now let's get the fuck out of here and go party. My lady looking like a kingpin wifey. I might have to shoot a nigga ova’ you tonight!” Lunden said excitedly as he gripped her hand to head to the door.
She laughed. “I hope like hell you don't.”
When Lunden pulled up to the club in his AMG 450 Mercedes, all eyes were on them when they stepped out. She was dressed to impress, and so was Lunden. It was a celebration for one of his right-hand men. He was also celebrating hitting a million dollars in drug money.
Things were looking up for him and Dexten, even though he was locked up.
Lunden promised to keep business booming while he was in jail, and Lunden would hold his cut.
So, he stepped out in a pair of custom men’s black Louis Vuitton tennis shoes, black Amiri jeans, and a matching gray and black monogram shirt to match his shoes.
All black was always his attire. He wore five diamond Cuban link chains, making sure he looked as hood-rich and flashy as he could with his lady.