Tainted

4. Zara

4

Zara

P ulling into the parking lot, I followed the signs to the leasing office. Otto and Brandy were still going at it, and to preserve our relationship, I needed space. After weeks of research, I found Oakwood Manor. This was the only complex I could afford with vacancies, so I didn’t have the pleasure of being picky.

Climbing from the car, I yanked the door open and walked inside. The cold breeze in the lobby made me cross my arms in my worn biker jacket.

“Welcome to Oakwood Manor. What can I do for you?”

My eyes dipped to his name tag, assuring that Nolan matched the name given on the phone. I would’ve never paired his rugged appearance with working in a leasing office, but that’s why Nana Banana said never to judge a book by its cover.

“Hi, I called about the two-bedroom unit.”

He headed for the counter, waiting for me to follow. Resting my elbows, I waited for him to get situated.

“What’s your name?”

I imagined the color draining from my face because suddenly, my mind went blank. His face scrunched in concern, and thankfully, the alias I selected came flying out.

“Nova.”

“Okay, Nova,” Nolan replied, rummaging through a stack of papers beside the keyboard. “You sure you called here? We get confused with Oakleaf Terrace a lot.”

“I’m positive. I spoke with you.”

“I don’t know about that shorty. I’ve been here all morning,” Nolan assured me, leaning on the counter to let another man carrying boxes squeeze past him.

“You’re sure about that?”

“Positive. I took some calls, but it wasn’t from Nova.”

“Fine. Do you have any units available? I have cash,” I reasoned, withholding my frustration. Yelling and screaming wouldn’t solve my housing crisis, even though I wanted to tell Nolan he was full of shit.

“I’m sorry. You can try some of our other complexes. They may have vacancies.”

“I can’t afford your other complexes.”

“I can put you on the waiting list,” Nolan offered.

There he was again, but his tattooed hands were empty this time. I noticed he wasn’t wearing a navy blue polo or name tag.

“No, Nolan . I need an apartment. The one you told me on the phone was available.”

“Chill, shorty.”

“Don’t tell me to chill, and I’m not your shorty!” My hand went up, stopping anything coming out of his mouth. “You said there was a unit available and took down my information. Now you’re telling me no units are available.”

My eyebrow hiked, being firm and direct. Mom always said people would get over on you if you let them. I wasn’t always direct and outspoken, but moving around and constantly being the new girl toughened me up.

“Like I said, I took a bunch of calls this morning. None of them were from Nova .”

“Where’s the manager?” I asked, fed up talking to him and getting nowhere.

Mr. Tattooed hands emerged again. “What’s the problem?”

“You might want to order a physical on your employee. Apparently, he has amnesia. He told me a unit was available and took down my information, but now it’s vanished.”

He nodded, walking to the back with a box and returning without it. When he approached the counter, Nolan happily slid down, allowing him to take over.

“What’s your name again?” he asked.

“Nova. Do I need to spell it out?”

The mockery in my tone made his eyes brim with irritation.

“What’s the last four digits of your number?”

“5934.”

Mr. Manager pointed at the paper, and they shared a look.

“Either you don’t know your name, or you called another complex,” he scowled.

Knowing my name should’ve been at the top of the list at twenty-one, but when you’ve gone through so many aliases, you cling to the small pieces of yourself you have left. That had to be the explanation for such a rookie mistake.

“Zara,” I muttered, quickly explaining, “I don’t like the name Zara. I usually go by Nova.”

“What was that?” Mr. Manager asked, wearing a sarcastic smile that looked good on him.

“Don’t be rude,” I countered.

“Like you were to my employee?”

“I’m sorry, Nolan.”

“We don’t have the two-bedroom unit anymore, but I have a one-bedroom. That shouldn’t be a problem since you’re in need .” Mr. Manager’s explanation made my nostrils flare, but I wasn’t in the position to complain.

“I’ll take it.” Nolan grabbed a stack of papers, but Mr. Manager interjected.

“I’ll handle it. I need to make sure everything checks out.”

“Now I’m a scammer because of a simple mix-up?”

“Just making sure you are who you say you are. Right this way.”

He gestured me inside but didn’t move out of my way. Sliding by, I sat before the desk and began filling out the application. Most of it was a lie, but I scribbled anyway, handing it back when I finished.

My heart pounded watching him input my information. I couldn't help but fidget, trying to maintain a calm facade, but I could feel the tension coiling inside me, ready to spring at any moment.

“What’s your name?” I finally asked.

“So you can put it in a complaint.”

“Because you didn’t give it to me, and that’s bad customer service.”

“Kenyon.”

“You don’t look like a Kenyon.”

“What does a Kenyon look like?”

My shoulders rose and fell. I wasn’t sure, but Kenyon sounded like a nice, wholesome young man—not one covered in tattoos, locs, and a bad attitude.

“You don’t look like a Zara, or Nova, for that matter.” Kenyon fired back, signaling Nolan through the window. “Show her the unit while I run this stuff.”

“Got you,” Nolan agreed.

“I can wait here,” I rushed out.

“You wanna spend time with me already?” he asked, wearing a menacing smile.

“Absolutely not.”

Hauling to my feet, I followed Nolan down the sidewalk with freshly cut grass on each side. We reached the second floor, and Nolan unlocked the door, guiding me inside.

“This is the one-bedroom unit.” He flailed his arms around, showing what he thought about the apartment.

It wasn’t the best neighborhood, but from the looks of the quaint apartment, it was clean. Most of all, there were no roaches when I opened the cabinets, and it was affordable. After finishing my walkthrough, I returned to the living room, where Nolan awaited.

“I’ll take it.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said all morning,” Nolan replied with a lopsided grin. “You’re too pretty to walk around frowning.”

“Not pretty enough to get that two-bedroom you said you had.”

“But you’re standing in one right,” Nolan said, motioning me along.

Finally, I returned to Kenyon's office, my stomach churning with anticipation. He looked up from his desk with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and my heart plummeted.

“Bad news,” he sighed, leaning back in his desk chair.

“What bad news?”

Our eyes locked in a silent standoff, and Kenyon's expression was unreadable. His grin widened, and he let the suspense hang in the air for a moment longer before he relented.

“I’m fucking with you. You're good.”

“Told you,” I replied sarcastically, trying to mask my vulnerability with bravado. “What did you think you’d find on ‘lil ole me?”

“Something since you barely remembered your name,” he mused, his voice low, “I didn’t take you for twenty-one either, but it looks like you’re full of surprises.”

“Keys, please?” I asked, wiggling my fingers.

“Sure thing, Zara Nicole ,” he replied, my name rolling off his tongue like he owned it.

“Don’t call me that.”

Kenyon’s lips spread into a playful smile. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, just not to you.”

Kenyon handed over the keys, and I left his office excited to have my own space, even if I didn’t have much left to furnish. You couldn’t put a price on peace, and knowing I had some put an extra pep in my step heading to work.

When I arrived, Kross was behind the bar as usual. I didn’t know what to make of my new boss, but Megan didn’t have to worry about me crossing the line. The piercing look in Kross’s eyes was enough for me to keep my head down and do my job.

“Hmm, look who’s getting ready with us common folk’ today,” Diamond groaned, leaning on the wall beside my vanity.

“Hell must be freezing over,” Phoenix added.

“Must be. Or either she’s coming off her high horse,” Diamond smirked.

I typically prepared at home to avoid this right here. For whatever reason, they took that personally. Lining my lips with Too Blessed 33 , I let them talk because I wasn’t here for friends anyway.

“Maybe not. I guess she can’t hear us from up there.” Phoenix sucked her teeth, watching me walk away.

I stepped into the dimly lit club, the air thick with perfume and anticipation as I searched for Rajah. Every new girl was assigned a veteran to shadow, and thankfully, I was paired with her. I spotted her near the bar and proceeded to trail behind Rajah, navigating the maze of tables and chairs until it was time for her to hit the stage.

Standing off to the side, I watched her move with a fluid grace that was almost otherworldly. She captivated the audience with each movement, drawing them into her world with a magnetic pull that was impossible to resist. Then, she sauntered toward me, leaving the crowd confused, but my eyes ballooned as I registered what was happening.

Thankfully, Rajah's confidence was contagious. Her presence empowered me to push past my fears and toward the pole. Adrenaline took over, and I flipped out of the spin and went into a series of tap steps, letting the music drive me forward. The music faded, and I dropped to the floor, ending with a smooth body wave. The cheers were loud, and I could barely hear myself think, but I’d survived my first time on the main stage.

The performance was over, but I still felt like I was floating, following Rajah around the club.

“I could tell you were nervous at first, but once you got going, you had every nigga’s attention. That’s good.” Rajah motioned for me to sit beside her.

“You know I’m not supposed to be on the main stage during prime hours until I earn my stripes.”

“Megan told me to show you the ropes. I’m showing you the ropes.” Rajah said, handing over a stack of cash. “This is your cut.”

“Thank you. Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” Rajah replied, dabbing her forehead with the hand towel.

“I’m your competition. Why are you helping me?”

“My Freshie ain’t so green after all,” Rajah smiled, using the nickname she’d given me since I was Fresh Meat, “But you’re not my competition. You got a lot more work to put in first, boo,” she boasted because Rajah wasn’t short on confidence. “But I’m on my way out anyway. My son is getting older. I have to get my shit together for him. I can’t do that here.”

“You’re a good mom.”

Rajah chuckled, trying to hide her emotions. “That’s a bold statement about somebody you don’t know.”

“Just a feeling, I guess,” I shrugged.

Rajah reminded me a little of my mom, Shana. Even when she made mistakes, I could feel her love inside them. That made her a good mother. Not believing some fairytale that mothers have superpowers. Shana was human like me, trying her best to raise a good woman.

“Since nobody else likes your ass around here, I guess it’s on me to train you up, so take notes.” she said, her gaze sweeping over the tables, “you gotta know how to spot the money. See that guy over there?” Rajah pointed subtly to a man in a tailored suit, sipping a drink at the bar. “He’s not flashy, but look at his watch and shoes. That’s quality.”

I scanned the patrons scattered around the club, trying to locate the quality Rajah described.

“Make them feel special like they’re seeing a side of you that no one else can see. Once they believe in the fantasy, they’ll drain their 401K to see a smile on your face, but remember, it’s all an act. Don’t get too deep, don’t let them in too close.”

Rajah tapped my thigh and adjusted her posture.

“The guy in the hat headed our way. His name is Trindon.”

“Who is he?”

“A nigga with a lot of money.” She smiled as he approached us and lifted her hand off her thigh. “Wassup Trin?”

“You and your girl,” Trindon flirted.

“Couldn’t have been that good of a show. You walked over here empty-handed,” Rajah pointed out.

Trindon smiled at her rebuttal. As quickly as his hand rose, another man appeared holding a designer duffle. He pulled out two snacks, handing one to each of us.

“Green and plentiful. Just how I like my appreciation ,” Rajah flirted.

“Thank you.”

“What’s your name beautiful?” Trindon asked.

Just as I parted my lips, Rajah’s hand gripped my wrist.

“That’s going to cost you another five.”

“For her name?” Trindon scoffed, and Rajah nodded, standing her ground, so I did, too. He looked me up and down, assessing whether I was worth it.

“Would you want her name so bad if every nigga in here had it in their mouth?” Rajah asked, leaning in with her cleavage. “The only thing free is the shit you’re not interested in, so pay my girl.”

“Is that right?” Trindon looked at me. When I didn’t offer my name, he reached behind him, and another stack appeared like magic.

“My name is Nova. It is a pleasure doing business with you.” I smiled outwardly, but inside, I was relieved.

“Super Nova.” Trindon licked his lips, staring at me like he was photographing me with his eyes, “I’ll see you around.”

Our intermission ended, and we were back weaving through the crowded floor. Rajah stopped to chat with a few clients, always with a flirty laugh and a quick smile. That was until Megan walked up wearing a scowl.

“In the dressing room. Now!” She demanded, storming off.

Rajah looked unbothered, but I needed this job. I had just rented an apartment and wasn’t ready to give up.

“What the hell was that?” Megan snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass, pointing at Rajah. “You know damn well Nova isn’t supposed to be on the main stage yet. And you,” she glared at me, “Did I not make the rules clear?”

My stomach was in knots while Rajah was playing with her nails. The entire dressing room was quiet, which never happened, but I had been here a few months and had yet to see Megan this pissed off.

“The crowd loved it. It’s not like the girl went up there and fell on her face. She did good for the first time out the gate.”

“This isn’t about what the crowd loved. It’s about you following the damn rules. There’s a reason new girls don’t come from the parking lot and straight to the main stage.”

“And exactly what is that reason again? You have a star player riding the bench, and for what? Put her in the game, Coach .”

Megan’s face flushed red with anger. “Don’t push me, Rajah. I’m serious. I can fire you right now for pulling this stunt.”

“Fire me?” Rajah crossed her arms and leaned back against the vanity, a smirk on her lips. “Don’t make me state the obvious in front of everybody.”

I glanced between them, tension thick in the air. I wasn’t sure if Rajah was bluffing or if she really didn’t care, but either way, Megan looked like she was ready to explode.

“Seniority lets you get away with a lot, but even you’re not invincible.”

“I never said I was. I just said the girl deserved a shot.”

For a moment, Megan looked like she might do it, but a knock saved her, and the door flew open.

"Rajah!" Kross rumbled, his voice deep and commanding. "My office. Now!”

Even Rajah, who usually had a witty comeback for everything, paused for a beat before complying with his demand. Without another word, she straightened up and walked toward the door.

As Rajah passed him, he didn’t move, just stood there, looming like a dark cloud while my heart thudded in my chest.

“Rajah can’t save you now,” Phoenix chuckled because watching me get in trouble was the highlight of her life.

“What is your problem?”

“It’s you, thinking you can waltz in here and do what you want. One good night on the big stage doesn’t make you a star, sweetie. It’s consistency, and every time you step on that stage, the lights get bigger and brighter.”

“The real issue is you see my talent, and with time, that’ll make you irrelevant. Hating ass bitch!”

“Baby, please. Your little twirls are cute ,” She smiled, mimicking a baby voice. “But sex sells, and I mean really. Look at me and look at you.”

“Once you get past the clown makeup and bad wigs ain’t shit to them busted ass moves. I can dance circles around you on my worst day.”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Megan finally interjected, but it was clear whose side she was on.

“Let her put her money where her mouth is. She can take my spot at Keyes’s party since bright lights don’t bother her.”

“Keyes party isn’t the place for an amateur. Settle yall’s shit another way, but it won’t be there,” Megan declared, putting her foot down.

“I’ll do it,” I said, speaking up because anything less would have made Phoenix think I was scared, and I wasn’t.

Megan’s neck rolled between us, but nothing was left to say, so she finally agreed.

“That one performance can make or break you in Northbridge, so you better be ready.” Megan patted my shoulder and walked out with Diamond and Phoenix behind her.

I wasn’t worried before, but Megan’s concern made me question whether I had made the right decision. I didn’t even know who Keyes was or why his birthday was such a big deal. My thoughts were about to take a deep dive, but Rajah walked back in.

“Well?” I asked, walking across the room.

“Well, what?”

“He was pissed, and I can’t afford to lose my job.”

“Relax,” Rajah said, glancing at me with a grin. “She’s not going to do anything. Megan’s more bark than bite.”

“What about Kross? He looks like his bark matches his bite.”

“Depends on the day, but even he can’t deny the cash this ass brings in. You’re fine, Freshie.”

“I’m not. After you left, Phoenix suggested I dance at Keyes’ party, and I couldn’t back down.”

Rajah threw her head back and laughed

“That bitch is cold-blooded.”

“What’s the big deal about Keyes’s birthday party anyway?”

“Girl, that’s not just any party. It’s the party. There’s going to be so much money in here. Since you’re the new girl, every single one of them is going to be watching to see if you can keep up.”

I bit my lip, wondering if my competitiveness got the best of me on this one. Rajah noticed and snapped her fingers in my face.

“So what she’s setting you up to fail. It doesn’t mean you have to. I’ve seen you dance, you got it and she knows it too. Go out there and show everybody else.”

Who is Keyes anyway?”

“Oh, you’ll see. Make sure you wear your big girl panties, Freshie, because every nigga with money or who’s after some will be at that party. The stage will be bigger but Keyes is easy to please if you do your job.”