Free The Glamorous Life by Nikki Turner Page A

conversation went on for about ten minutes. Then he finally said to her, “Pretty lady, I didn’t catch your name?”
    “Maybe because I didn’t throw it,” she said, resuming her phony smile.
    “Bad day at the office?” He looked over her black Ellen Tracy business suit and her Dooney and Bourke briefcase, making the assumption she was at the club for happy hour.
    She laughed a little. “No.”
    “I’m Smooth.” He extended his hand out.
    She almost shit a brick. Since Egypt’s ordeal the word “smooth” made her stomach turn simply when used as an adjective. Here she was sitting face-to-face with her friend’s predator. Her first thought was to run behind the counter, grab one of those bottles, hit him upside the head, and beat him unmercifully. But she managed to keep her composure, not showing one ounce of emotion, and smiled. “Oh, I like that name. It’s different.”
    “I know. I think I’m probably the only guy in this town with the name Smooth.”
    Thanks for confirmation, you slimy dirt bag, she thought with a devilish grin, but extended her hand. “I’m Barbie.”
    “Damn girl, you’s finer than any black Barbie doll I ever saw.”
    She smiled.
    “Where yo man?” he asked.
    “He broke my heart and left me.”
    “Damn, baby, that’s some real ill shit, but don’t worry ’bout it, cuz every dog has its day!”
    “You’re right, every dog does have its day,” she agreed, nodding her head.
    He glanced at her keys on the bar and noticed a picture on it that looked like it had been taken at a state fair. He picked it up for a closer look at her key chain and looked at the picture.
    “This is your sister?” he asked, pointing to the other person in the picture.
    “No.” She shook her head and smiled. “It’s my mother.”
    “Damn, baby, I can sho see where you get your pretty looks from.”
    “You come here a lot?” she asked, changing the subject.
    “Umm, sometimes but not too much,” he said.
    Only when you’re on the hunt for your next victim, huh? Smooth’s cell phone started ringing with back-to-back calls. Then his pager started to vibrate. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t—it was about to blow up. He knew he had to answer so it would stop. He told her, “Look, I really gotta make a run right quick. But I don’t want to leave if this means I will never see you or hear from you again.”
    “Oh, you will.”
    He finally answered his phone, having no idea that the phone volume needed to come down some because she could hear everything that was being said to him.
    “Nigga, where da fuck you at?” she heard a high-pitched female voice scream. Bambi never gave any indication that she heard anything. She only smiled, batting her big brown eyes.
    “I’m going to be on the way in a minute to come and get that.” He played his role to the tee, acting like it was one of his homeboys on the phone.
    “Yeah, nigga, you’ve been saying you on the way for three hours.”
    “Nah, for real, just make sure you have everything right when I get there.”
    The voice softened up a little bit, but Bambi could still hear her say, “I am naked waiting here so I can taste that sweet cum of yours in my mouth.”
    “I’m going to pass through there in a minute, so make sho’ it’s all good when I get there.”
    “Don’t worry, it will be, baby!”
    “A’ight den.”
    He closed the Startec phone, looked into Bambi’s eyes, and tried to be sincere. She would probably have believed him had she not heard the whole conversation and also known what he did to her friend Egypt. “Look, baby, sorry … but ummm, I’ve gotta bust a move so I can get this cheddar for us.”
    Yeah, whatever, you lying-ass Negro, she thought as she smiled and said to him, “Oh, for real?”
    “Yeah, baby, I’m straight feeling you, and I am trying to make you mines.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Yup, that’s right,” he said, looking into her eyes. She was happy that she could smell his game a